Feline Antics
by CleverMonkey
Summary: A collection of GrimmHime oneshots.
1. Cat Got The Cream

**Author's Note:**

**Feline Antics will be a collection of one-shots varying in length and content, all about the most brillopads pairing in the series ! The chapters won't really link with each other (unless stated otherwise) and won't follow any kind of order. As I'm sure you've probably twigged, the chapters will be somewhat inspired by cat sayings and proverbs for reasons absolutely unknown. :P**

**Hope you like and reviews are love!**

Title: Cat Got the Cream.

Summary: Orihime gets creative in the kitchen and Grimmjow's interested.

Word Count: 2052

Warnings: Nada except for odd bits of lingo ... some sexual themes.

Genre: Romance and Humour

Rating: T (Ish. I tried not to be too graphic but this one could be more NC-17)

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.

The air was thick with the rich aroma of Orihime's chocolate sauce as it bubbled away happily, simmering on the stove. A rather daunting mountain of cream-filled choux pastry spheres sat close to the animated pot, and the basin in the sink was overflowing with various pieces of cutlery and crockery, all drowning in murky water.

Orihime had been cooking.

Despite her reputation of producing mad concoctions you would have to be crazy to sample (unless you were a certain busty strawberry-blonde lieutenant), Orihime had prepared a fairly normal desert – having become fed up with the uninteresting food originally offered. Orihime had baked profiteroles. They actually looked how the recipe book's picture had looked, from a distance, but closer up, the golden orbs were actually terrifyingly huge - as in dinner-plate huge.

Practically covered head to toe in flour, the infamous cook had only just managed to remove the worst of the chocolate sauce from her auburn hair, having been coated in the dark sticky liquid when it became far too hot and spat at her. Orihime, however, felt somewhat proud that she had been able to whip and mix the vanilla cream filling while keeping most of it in the bowl.

Of course, filling the profiteroles had been a different matter. Typically, Orihime had been unable to find a piping bag in the kitchen of Las Noches, so she had to improvise with baking paper and tape. As long as she didn't overfill the bag, all was good, but unfortunately, putting more than two teaspoons of cream into the bag counted as overfilling it. By being uncharacteristically careful, Orihime managed to limit the damage to just her hands.

Orihime washed her hands and was once more clean (ish) and eyed up the stack of washing-up to do. Sighing, Orihime noted that the bowl she had made the cream filling in was still virtually half-full. Not one to waste such a treat, she set herself one the countertop, spoon in hand, and began the tremendous task of 'cleaning' the bowl.

***

He'd heard of Orihime's laughable cooking reputation, so after discovering that she was experimenting or killing time or whatever she called it in the kitchen, Grimmjow had to investigate. He was expecting an onslaught of toxic aromas, a foggy atmosphere even he couldn't see through, or at least the hot little thing covered in ash, but Grimmjow was disappointed to see nothing particularly catastrophic. Well, perhaps the Espada would have been if his attention hadn't been drawn to the cute little red-head currently sat on the counter, oblivious to his intrusion.

For once, blue eyes didn't gawk at her feminine form and his mouth didn't dry at the sight of her; no, this time, his motionless state was due to what the girl was holding. His nose twitched as Grimmjow absentmindedly sniffed the air and his heightened sense of smell detected the irresistible scent of cream.

Like a moth is drawn to the flame, Grimmjow approached Orihime, cerulean eyes on the bowl of fluffy cream. It seemed that only when he was directly in front of her that she actually noticed his presence.

"Oh!" Orihime startled, dropping her spoon into the bowl and managing to get cream all over her hand.

"What the hell are ya doin'?" Grimmjow demanded, not wanting the girl to catch on to his fixation.

"Umm, Ulquiorra said Aizen-sama said that I could use the kitchen when I wanted to, so long as I don't demolish it." Orihime spluttered.

Grimmjow really wasn't listening; he was far too occupied by following her cream-topped finger with an eager gaze. Just as Orihime opened her mouth to voice her curiosity, temptation got the better of Grimmjow and he leaned forward and licked the cream straight off her finger, completely startling the girl.

Temporarily satisfied, Grimmjow lifted his eyes back to Orihime, who had gotten over her shock and was now trying to control a fit of giggles. He glared at her before he picked up her dropped spoon and took over her earlier task.

"Hey, no fair! Don't eat all of it!" Orihime whined. Her complaint was cut off when Grimmjow shoved a cream-topped finger into _her_ open mouth, successfully silencing her. Shocked silver eyes slowly became coy as Orihime moved her tongue very slightly to lick the tip of his finger clean, an action which completely distracted the Espada.

"So what the hell you got cookin' then?" Grimmjow asked in another attempt to hide his reaction to the cream; '_and the fuckin' girl'_.

When his wide azure eyes finally focused, they were drawn to a dollop of cream that Orihime had managed to attract just to the left of her mouth; the very mouth which was still making Grimmjow's eyes want to roll right to the back of his head. His eyes closed when Orihime slowly pulled her lips back over his digit, and when he opened his eyes again, they fixed on the drop of cream marring her pretty face.

"I made profiteroles." Orihime finally answered, her quiet voice as innocent as always. When she met his intent glare, she assumed that the Espada's impatience was quickly turning into irritation and Orihime hesitated as she thought how to continue. "Well, they take a long time to make and can be quite tricky. It's just I just get so bored around here and I needed a distraction," Her whispered response came.

This time, Grimmjow certainly wasn't listening as all of his interest was fixed upon that spot of cream. Naturally, the idea that it could be taking things a little too far made it even harder to ignore. The finger that had all too recently experienced the wonders of her mouth was now twitching to remove the drop, whereas other ideas seemed more inviting.

Orihime repeated herself presuming that Grimmjow hadn't heard her hushed reply and, this time, blue eyes flashed to her silver eyes in brief recognition.

"Sounds like a shit loada' work to me," He muttered whilst trying to keep his voice steady as the fight to keep control became harder to win; '_can't even keep my fuckin' eyes off that one delicious splotch'._

Eventually, temptation won out in his head and Orihime suddenly felt Grimmjow's tongue licking her cheek, teasingly close to her lips. The feeling of his tongue caressing her skin surprisingly gently made her gasp blissfully and when the moist muscle accidently caught the very corner of her mouth, Orihime could have sworn her heart performed summersaults.

Grimmjow pulled back, smirking, but Orihime was too shocked to notice and she only regained control of her thoughts in time to see Grimmjow swallowing. Realising he'd probably just cleaned up a bit of cream (albeit in quite an odd way), Orihime felt embarrassed that he had been able to knock her off her metaphorical feet just by licking her face.

As Orihime's cheeks flushed a beautiful cherry-red, Grimmjow offered her another cream-topped digit and was pleased to see her instantly take his finger into her mouth. He had to suppress a growl, however, when he felt Orihime suck lightly on the tip.

Orihime knew instantly that she was having a similar effect on him as he did on her if his reactions were anything to go by. She found herself rather fond of his smile, a smile not conquered by psychotic violence, but one owned purely by pleasure; she was intrigued when his eyes shut and his brows furrowed as he tried to remain tense.

While she removed his finger again, Orihime discretely placed a bead of cream on her lower lip and waited for Grimmjow to open his eyes and take the bait. She was not disappointed as her lure had successfully enticed him to her lips and as soon as she felt his tongue slide across her appendage, Orihime grasped the back of his neck with both hands as she pulled the Espada into an eager kiss.

She had always tempted him, constantly teased him without even trying. Ever since she had returned his arm to him, shown him how different she was, how special she was, he'd wanted to know more. Not many days had gone by when he hadn't been distracted by her presence or went out of his way to be closer to the enigmatic girl; even less nights had gone by when his mind had not been flooded with far too real images of the human's touches.

Yes, she had always tempted him, but he had kept control. But now, Grimmjow lost all control to Orihime. He wanted her; he needed her; and damn it, he would have her. It seemed that that small drop of cream cost Grimmjow all restraints.

Despite how much he wanted her, Orihime's eagerness abruptly outdid the Espada's. Her suddenly keen hands pulled him close against her body and her legs wrapped around his waist; by this point he'd only just decided that gripping her back was a good idea.

Grimmjow groaned into her kiss when he felt her unexpectedly confident fingers drag down his torso, teasing him slowly. The Sixth felt her smile against his lips before her probing tongue made its way into his mouth, surprisingly overruling his.

The human girl managed to distract the powerful Arrancar by biting playfully on his lower lip, successfully startling him when he realised her hand had slipped into his hakamas. Blue eyes simply widened at her coy smile as her mouth left his lips, seeking the sensitive flesh of his neck, kissing and nipping along its way.

Her teasing stroking movements joined with her tongue's caresses along his pulse point on his neck had Grimmjow leaning his head back, growling with pleasure. He inadvertently mirrored her hand's actions with his hips, ardent for more friction.

He dragged his hands down her back, needing something sturdier to grip, only finding the edge of the countertop. Grimmjow could feel the marble crack beneath his clasp, not that he paid much attention: Orihime's ministrations were far too distracting.

The Espada felt his eyes pop open when Inoue's blunt teeth bit into the skin of his throat, simultaneously holding him that little bit tighter. Grimmjow knew his character was completely out of role, exactly like Orihime's, but he was powerless to resist when that God damn hand moved faster.

Grimmjow was all too aware of the deep indentations on the kitchen counter, but he didn't care at all. Not when Orihime sucked on his now red neck while pumping him forcefully. The incredible sensations upon his person caused his body to shudder, a response which only made the girl more eager.

Orihime's spare hand forced his pleasured body closer to her, almost instantly feeling the Espada in her hands grab hold of her waist impossibly tight as the movement of his hips became jerky, out of sync with her pleasurable strokes.

Grimmjow lost all restraints as Orihime's burning hand forced his groan of ecstasy along with his explosive release. He simply stood between her legs, panting heavily as she brought her hand to her lips, once again cleaning her messing fingers. Had he not been thoroughly satisfied, the truly erotic sight would have had him drooling on the spot.

With an innocent sounding giggle, Orihime hopped off the counter to Grimmjow's side before she stood on her tip-toes to gently kiss the red blotch on his neck. The girl then progressed to wash the various pieces of crockery and cutlery that were now stewing in murky, cold water.

Grimmjow still hadn't caught his breath when Orihime began moving around the kitchen, cleaning the flour clouds away. He barely reacted when she nudged him out of her way playfully to clean the surfaces he was blocking. It was only when she cocked her head to the side after seeing the obvious dents in the marble that Grimmjow responded to his surroundings at all.

He felt his cheeks flush at the physical evidence of his lack of control, and although no others would know what it meant, the idea that everyone who used the kitchen – which meant anyone else around here who liked eating – would see the impressions embarrassed him.

Now, not many things actually embarrassed the Sexta Espada, but knowing what the hard proof meant somewhat humiliated him: Grimmjow got creamed.


	2. Don't Let The Cat Out Of The Bag

Title: Don't Let the Cat Out of the Bag

Summary: Orihime and Ichigo were an item when she was kidnapped. A year later, how was he meant to know that she didn't love him anymore? Got a tad carried away with this one, but I like how it turned out. Some lines work in cannon (I'm sure you'll figure out when and where). OOCness of the characters probably, but it's fun to mess 'em around a bit.

Word Count: 5664

Warnings: Language (duh) and Smexxxxy time :P

Genre: Romance / Angst

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.

Orihime's body clock worked pretty well: she woke up at about the same time each morning; felt completely drained at about half eleven at night; fed her grumbling stomach at eight, one and six – Orihime could judge the time by how she felt fairly accurately. In fact, she could be moderately certain of what day of the week it was by when her hair needed washing; cramps always made themselves known at the same time of the month and a cycle hadn't gone by when she was a day late.

So Orihime knew she had been in Las Noches for roughly two months now. Little had happened, and as far as she could tell, all of the Arrancar were becoming restless waiting for a fight.

The thoughts of the inevitable fight soon to come sent shivers coursing up and down Orihime's spine, tormenting her with the worst consequences for her decision, but the prospect of seeing '_my'_ Ichigo before long kept the girl strong. Just thinking his name caused Inoue to fall to her knees; it had only been a short month after the pair had confessed their feelings to one another, the best month of her life, before Ulquiorra had ripped her away from her love.

Orihime gave into her memories as she reminisced over that one summer month of bliss. His gorgeous smile had originally been a rarity but, as days went by, he smiled more often; '_for me'._ She didn't realise she was crying until she felt drops of tears land silently on her arms and she wrapped them around her body; holding herself together.

It seemed Orihime had cried herself dry, as now she sobbed empty tears, choked empty coughs and couldn't even sound his name. No matter how much she scolded herself for such dreadful thoughts, such selfish ideas, Orihime could not help but powerlessly ask the night, '_Why has Ichigo not already come for me?_'

- - - - -

3rd Month

- - - - -

The first bloody weeks had been absolute crap. If she wasn't crying her friggin' eyes out, she was screaming that flamin' Shinigami's name continuously. Grimmjow had completely disregarded his appreciation for sleep, but soon discovered it when he couldn't get any. Orihime instantly stopped crying when he pounded on the wall, immediately shut up when he stormed in looking ready to kill; but what she said in her sleep was out of her control.

Three months later, the crying seemed to have stopped altogether; or his ears had stopped working. She didn't even whisper his name during the night. Grimmjow might have figured that the girl had given up but, if anything, Orihime's spirit had improved.

Orihime smiled at anyone she passed, regardless of whether they noticed or deserved the gesture. He often heard her laughter from the other side of their wall when someone visited, and, upon occasion, Grimmjow saw interactions with various Espada that could almost be considered flirting.

No, the girl hadn't given up; she'd adjusted.

- - - - -

4th Month

- - - - -

She knew exactly who'd done it, and why. Orihime stared at her bolted door, shivering in the late autumn night, willing her room to become accessible. Clad only in the pyjama set she was provided with, Orihime began shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she tried to keep warm. '_Darn it, Nnoitra'._ He'd done it on purpose, led her out of her room and locked it, hoping she'd take him up on his offer that his door was always open to her. Orihime rolled her eyes at the Espada's interest in her, his ridiculous infatuation making her sigh. Her sigh turned into a huff of annoyance, she didn't know where Ulquiorra was and didn't want to wander the entire palace looking for him in her pyjamas (Orihime downright refused to accept Nnoitra's offer) but she was tired; '_and cold'!_

'_There's always ...' _Orihime's mind tempted her towards the door to the adjacent room. He would actually kill her! Or he could, but would he? '_Was he allowed?'_ No, Aizen wanted to keep her alive. It was a pretty dim idea but the thought of a warm bed was very appealing. '_He may not even be in there,'_ her conscience coaxed.

Temptation won; Orihime warily approached the entrance before silently easing the door ajar. He was of course in there; it was a long shot anyway. His room wasn't dissimilar to hers, perhaps a little bigger; the main difference being that in place of a dingy single bed stood a generous king sized one.

Orihime edged forwards, eyes fixed upon the sleeping occupant, waiting for the signal to run for her life. At the foot of the bed, Orihime stood motionlessly, petrified to move at all. It was only a matter of time before she woke him, right? The Espada slept stretched out on his back, one arm raised beneath his tangle of cerulean hair, oblivious to her intrusion.

Orihime had never slept in the same bed with someone of the opposite gender before, well perhaps once or twice in her brother's bed when nightmares tore her awake. Even when Ichigo had ended up staying the night he chose to sleep on her couch. The notion of sharing a bed with an enemy, not just a male, should have worried her, but Orihime wasn't bothered about it, only surprised that she had just realised the fact.

Orihime manoeuvred herself to one side of the bed, the side that offered the most room; '_enough room for two of me'_. She tentatively inched a hand closer to the sheets, waiting for her arm to be snapped off. Her palm made it close enough to feel the warmth practically radiating from the dormant Arrancar, heat that was far too alluring for the cold human girl to resist.

Barely disturbing the bedspread, Orihime slipped in between the warm sheets and lay on her side, perfectly still and already nearly asleep, despite the obvious danger. She relaxed as the minutes passed by, minutes that didn't feature the Espada's hand piercing her stomach.

It was only when her eyes drooped shut that Orihime knew her luck had run out.

"What the fuck d'ya think you're doin', girl?" Grimmjow demanded, his voice thick with sleep.

Wide silver eyes trembled with the rest of her body, as Orihime desperately struggled to think of an explanation to her _stupid_ visit.

Growing tired of laying next to a human vibrator, Grimmjow abruptly pulled her body flush against his, the heat of his chest scorching her freezing skin through her nightclothes.

"Still cold, are ya?" His grumbled question answered her gasp. She should be petrified; in fact she should be dead. But Orihime found she was helpless to the searing warmth coursing through her body.

Orihime didn't understand his reaction at all, but figured that she'd better be gone before he woke up the next morning. She could live with that.

- - - - -

Although her door was unlocked the next night, her cold empty sheets offered no comfort in comparison to last night's arrangement. Orihime crept into his room again, slept in an oddly comforting death hold around her waist, and left before he woke.

The third night, Orihime didn't slumber quite as quickly as the previous nights. Winter was kicking in now – or Aizen had decided he liked arctic conditions – and Orihime still shivered in the Espada's arms.

Grimmjow pulled her tighter to his body, annoyed at the girl's shaking and lent his cheek against her throat. The contact startled Orihime and her stillness pleased him. She remained motionless, his breathing steadied as he fell asleep again, but slumber could not find her.

It had only been the third night like this but already she felt safe in his hold, no longer afraid if she would see the morning or not. Her thoughts confused Orihime and Grimmjow's intimate hold on her didn't help her perplexity.

She liked this, although she knew he only held her as such so she wouldn't keep him awake, it was somewhat nice. She gently rolled onto her other side, trying not to disturb him, and snuggled into his warm chest, seeking more than just protection from the cold.

When he woke, again, she wasn't there. If it wasn't for that fact Grimmjow could smell that she'd been in his bed, he'd have thought that he'd dreamt her. He liked having her scent there, not just because it confirmed her visits.

- - - - -

The following night was colder, and Orihime was in Grimmjow's bed sooner than previous nights. She didn't bother trying not to wake him – he'd wake up anyway – and immediately pressed her body against his. Orihime felt his body shudder slightly and looked up into amused azure eyes.

"Bloody hell, girl, how d'ya get so fuckin' cold? What d'ya even wear to bed?" He didn't wait for an answer, he just lifted the covers from her body finding it clad in a skimpy black and white pyjama set. He'd bet Aizen had something to do with that, or perhaps Gin. "No wonder you're so damned cold."

"It's this or nothing," Orihime muttered, missing the flash in his blue eyes. "And anyways, what do you even wear to bed?" She tried to imitate his tone as she lifted the sheets out of curiosity. Her grey eyes widened under realisation that Grimmjow chose the latter of her option. She quickly dropped the sheet and attempted to clean out her thoughts.

His laughter distracted her into a pout. "Hey, shut up, you could have warned me, you know." He traded in laughing to pat Orihime on her head patronisingly. Grimmjow knew she'd given up pouting when her breaths became shallow and his hand remained where it landed, stroking her hair absentmindedly.

Orihime came back the next night, obviously not put off by Grimmjow's sleeping attire – or lack of – and didn't even try to distance herself from his person. He might have thought she'd forgotten. Although tonight was warmer than the others had been, she still hugged her small frame to his, possibly closer than before. However, her clinging form was gone before he woke the next morning; why did this make getting up even harder?

In actual fact, he didn't see her all morning, he vaguely remembered Nnoitra saying she wouldn't be at the meeting when Aizen asked. Grimmjow didn't know why he spent the next minute and a half staring at the other Espada, trying to work out what he meant.

Her absence bothered him – even more so that night. It got to well past midnight; he knew she wasn't coming; before he got off his lazy ass. Rational thought was pointless, he discovered, especially if he wanted to stay sane; he simply grabbed a pair of hakamas before stalking next door.

It wasn't until he was staring at the plain white frame that he honestly wondered as to the reason of her absence, '_had Nnoitra hurt her for real this time?_' The girl's door burst open quicker than he intended.

- - - - -

Orihime's shuddering breath awoke her from much needed sleep. She knew she wasn't alone anymore and hoped that if it was Ulquiorra, he would just leave her alone today. Her head still throbbed from this morning's headache, and her ribs clung to her body painfully after the countless times she had thrown up. She hadn't had a migraine in a few months but in honesty she should have been expecting one.

Looking back, Nnoitra's response had been comical but he left without too much trouble. Ulquiorra's reaction wasn't to be expected either: the smell of her lunch had Orihime rushing to her en suite. By the time she crawled out of her bathroom, Ulquiorra and lunch were long gone.

She hadn't been ill since late afternoon and Orihime now assumed that she had just about slept the nausea away – but she still didn't want to deal with any of her captors. That was until the intruder clambered into her single bed next to her. Inoue sighed contentedly, instantly realising who her companion was.

He didn't know what to ask; naturally, he didn't want her to know her missed her, and equally so he didn't want her to know that he worried – however briefly. "Suddenly scared off, were we?" Grimmjow kept his voice teasing.

"No," Orihime's hoarse response came as she tried to explain. "I wasn't feeling too great today. I didn't want to disturb you like this all night ..."

"Do you want me to go?" His now-serious voice cut her off.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable - "

"I asked, 'do you want me to go?'" Impatience was evident as Grimmjow's voice repeated roughly.

"No," Orihime sighed, he strained body already relaxing in his gentler-than-normal hold. He moved his form around hers, giving her as much room as she wanted or comforting her as need be. Although she didn't wake up during the night, Grimmjow figured that he would have stayed – helped, even if she didn't ask – had she been ill.

It took him until morning to realise that he was genuinely concerned for her. Then he understood why every morning, she was never still with him. Grimmjow departed before the slumbering girl woke, internally arguing with the multiples of new sentiments.

- - - - -

The following night, Orihime made her way to the adjacent room without trepidation knowing full well that her neighbour wanted her presence as much as she needed his. No matter his reasons, Orihime greatly appreciated Grimmjow's company last night. Upon entering his room, the girl immediately noted that although the teal haired Arrancar attempted to appear asleep, he was obviously awake, waiting to see if he would have to go to her room tonight.

With new found enthusiasm, Inoue skipped lightly across the room and landed comfortably by the now very awake Espada.

"What's got you so fuckin' giddy?" Grimmjow didn't fool her with his fake groggy voice. All the girl did was giggle at him before snuggling into his warm bed, her chilled form flush against his heated one. Orihime may not have noticed, but Grimmjow sure as hell observed that her left leg had managed to wrap itself around his own.

Before any interesting thoughts could pass though his mind, Orihime altered her position so that her cheek rested on his chest and he felt her fingertips trace lines over his abdomen.

At first, the hole in the Espada's stomach caught her attention, but as her eyes drifted, Orihime noticed the soft blue hairs that led down to beneath the sheets. Her fingers found themselves following the trail downwards slowly.

Grimmjow was well aware that Orihime had no intentions similar to what his head did, but damn it, the girl was teasing him! He didn't need any more frustration on top of waiting for a fight so she needed to stop, now; before he went mad. He needed to scare her, just enough to make her back off from him, to remind her that she can't be so comfortable around him.

Orihime's forgotten ministrations were unexpectedly interrupted by Grimmjow's hand grabbing her wrist, easily stopping the movements. Before she could voice her question, he jerked her hand down over the sheets, making her aware of his now obvious arousal.

Her gasp was answered by his suddenly menacing growl in her ear. "You'd better fuckin' stop, girl" Orihime's body shook violently, the vibrations causing Grimmjow to try to bite back a groan. She missed nothing, and she knew that the sound wasn't of anger. Her shaking ceased, knowing that his anger had faded, but her hand remained where it was, suddenly inquisitive.

Orihime's fingers stroked over his length through the sheets and his unrestrained growl of pleasure made her tilt her head to look up at him. His intense blue stare met her inquiring gaze and when she slid her hand beneath the sheets without warning and held his erection, the Espada's eyes widened in surprise before closing with gratification.

Grimmjow's brows furrowed and his expression immediately held concentration and control. He lifted his hand to tilt her head to the side of his, and his husky whisper surprised Orihime.

"You'd better stop, 'cause I ain't gonna," He meant to scare her, or at least warn her. But instead, her hand gripped him tighter and his restraints snapped.

One minute Orihime was half resting on his chest and the next she was pinned beneath his body, his mouth was upon hers in a scorching kiss.

Her lips melted into his attentions and she instantly allowed entry to his probing tongue. Grimmjow's hands, previously tightly gripping her waist, now made quick work of her clothes, ripping anything that couldn't be removed in less time.

Time stood still in Orihime's mind, days could have passed as she lost herself in his kiss, but before she knew what had happened, she was just as bare as the Espada. While his searching hands roamed to her cleavage, Grimmjow's hungry mouth never left hers. He grinned against her lips when she gasped as his fingers pinched her left nipple lightly; her gasp turned into a moan when his other hand caressed her right breast.

She was unaware how long he played with her body, forcing her to make the sexiest of moans he'd ever heard. The best of them all, though, was her disappointed whine when his right hand abandoned her sensitive nipple, followed by a gasp of surprise and pleasure when the very same hand stroked her along her core.

As he slipped a long finger inside her heat, Orihime automatically bit down on her bottom lip and Grimmjow's eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head when he felt just how wet and tight she was. Holding back the growl that was threatening to escape, the Arrancar sucked Orihime's bruised lip into his hungry mouth and kissed her, feeling she was just as needy as he was, while his hand continued to make her body sing for him.

Her hands held on to his back with earnest, her nails dug into his skin with little effect. Having been previously unoccupied, she brought one hand down and across his hip, seeking his arousal that not too long ago had been in her hand. Grimmjow could not control his groan when he felt her small hand wrap around his cock, and he instinctively leaned his hips into her touch.

She could feel the tension building; her lower stomach was all in knots. With every movement his digit inside of her made, the knot tightened, making her want to scream in pleasure and agony at the same time. His fingers on her right nipple increased the tension and when the Espada above her curled his finger inside of her slightly, she saw white. Her first orgasm drowned everything out as the tension snapped; she didn't realise that she screamed his name.

Her hot, wet walls clamped around his finger, causing his cock to twitch with need. The waves of bliss were still coursing through her and Grimmjow took advantage of that moment. He lined himself up against her dripping core and entered her quickly, knowing her orgasmic high would distract her from the sharp pain.

Grey eyes, now sparkling silver, snapped open, not in pain but with shock. She felt stretched, but not in an uncomfortable way, in fact the sensations coursing through her body were magical. Her hands climbed up his back to hold onto his neck tightly as he thrust relentlessly into her heat.

He gave her no opportunity to relax from her own nirvana and it seemed only mere minutes of perfect movements distorted her breathing until Orihime was gasping for air as Grimmjow induced another frenzy of orgasmic bliss. He didn't slow for her; to be honest Orihime may have thought he didn't notice her struggle to remain on this plain had she not seen his devilishly handsome smirk in response to her writhing body.

Pleased with her reactions to his less than gentle behaviour, Grimmjow lifted Orihime's hips slightly, deepening the angle, and dug into her body harder. With every rough entry, he felt her core grow tighter around his length, and in turn he entered her harder. Evidently, the girl was less breakable than he previously thought; he wanted to know how far she could go.

Before he could see how fragile she was, her body rippled again as another climax drowned her, one that practically had Grimmjow counting backwards to ignore. When her pussy relaxed its vice grip hold on his cock, he lifted Orihime's body and pinned her against the wall at the head of the bed.

Orihime opened her eyes as she felt her sweating body be slammed into the cold wall, a captivating contrast to Grimmjow's warm body. She'd never liked pain, but every time she felt him slam into the back of her core, the pleasure magnified unbelievably. Inoue wrapped her legs around his waist, now straddling his lap and her hands clung to his shoulders.

She looked up into his teal eyes when she felt his movements lose their rhythm and the intense look of lust in Grimmjow's eyes almost had her coming right there and then. Being unable to resist any longer, Orihime yanked Grimmjow forward by his neck and pulled him into a needy kiss, battling with his tongue for dominance.

Her clenching walls fluttered around him and he felt her tongue give into his in defeat as her moans built up in volume, all the time her body quivered around him. Grimmjow's will power thinned and his jerky thrusts stilled as her climax ridden body forced his own explosive release.

His forehead crashed to her shoulder as the pair attempted to catch their breaths. By the time he slid out of her exhausted body, Orihime was already asleep. Grimmjow rearranged her slumbering, glistening body so that she rested upon his chest – exactly as she had before everything between them changed.

Or so he thought; the morning was no different. Grimmjow woke alone.

- - - - -

She had woken up as soon as she had felt it, that familiar '_and safe_' spiritual pressure. After all of the months she had waited, when he finally turned up, why – oh why – did Orihime wish he hadn't? She knew he'd search for her, follow her aura until he found her, but he couldn't find her here _'in his bed'_. It was only then that Orihime realised exactly what she had done, not only had she betrayed Ichigo, but she had betrayed him with his rival.

- - - - -

Ichigo had taken far longer than necessary, and he regretted that. He should have ignored everything that held him back to rescue Inoue but he couldn't abandon Rukia, not once or any of the countless times. But he was here now, so close that he'd be able to hold her today.

'_There!'_ he felt her spiritual pressure, stronger than before. Ichigo didn't care what stood in his way, he'd get there.

- - - - -

Her scent was weaker than previous mornings, informing Grimmjow that she had departed hours ago. Now he realised how calming he found her scent; the withdrawal symptoms became known as frustration and '_confusion'_ tore through his body.

Grimmjow got out of bed and dressed – slower than normal – while he tried to reason with his emotions. He didn't know why he had expected anything to be different, less so why he was disappointed that nothing was. '_Damned human emotions are fuckin' infectious!'_

It was only after unsuccessfully trying to vent his annoyance upon an unsuspecting wall that Grimmjow noticed the presence of that damned Shinigami's spiritual pressure. Putting two and two together, he realised why Orihime had gone. He bitterly thought of the loving reunion they'd have in such a damned place '_surrounded by hollows_' but found that that just pissed him off further.

- - - - -

She loved Ichigo – '_right?_' – that's why she was forcing him to get her out of Hueco Mundo as fast as possible, to protect him from more violence ... and what he doesn't need to know. So if Orihime loved Ichigo, why did it feel like she was leaving part of herself behind?

"Ya think ya can just charge into enemy HQ, pick up the cargo and 'spect to get out scot free, huh?" The voice ripped Orihime from her thoughts but she quickly remembered that she had to fear that voice again, or at least act like she did.

"Well, Kurosaki?" Grimmjow demanded, advancing at a leisurely pace. "Or have ya really reached all new levels of stupid?

Ichigo took the bait perfectly, and Inoue was solitary as the Substitute Soul Reaper charged at the Sexta Espada. Using snide remarks and half-hearted blows, Grimmjow lured Ichigo away from the girl and the pair of opposites traded blows, however the blue haired party seemed to be merely enjoying a game.

Once he had put enough distance between the two humans, Grimmjow utilised his superior Sonido to appear directly behind Orihime before Ichigo could blink.

"Lemme ask you, Kurosaki ... what did you come here for anyway?" He made no threat to the girl, but the Sixth knew he'd take it as one.

Ichigo didn't trust the apparent calmness in the normally extremely violent Espada. He cautiously kept his ground – all the time he wasn't touching Orihime. "That's obvious, isn't it? To rescue Inoue!"

Orihime knew what was coming. As hypocritical as it seemed and as much as she deserved whatever the hollow threw at her, it hurt to think that what they'd '_done_' last night was just to hurt Ichigo. She knew she had contributed to his forthcoming pain – in fact, she was the root of it – but she didn't want him to feel it. She'd rather suffer all the pain herself, but that wouldn't happen; the world wasn't that balanced.

"Hah!" Grimmjow's outburst startled her from her musings, and she realised that she was crying. He didn't leave it there though. "Then why didn't you take her the minute you saw her ... and just run away from here?"

She saw it, the confusion and guilt on Ichigo's face. She hated that he felt bad for something so insignificant, but Orihime suddenly wondered what had taken him so long. Her thoughts were once again cut short.

"Or did it relax you to see her unhurt?" Grimmjow inched towards Orihime, not unnoticed by Ichigo. Grimmjow didn't like what he was about to do, only because it was about fuck all he could do. "I bet you didn't even wonder what was going on inside of her!"

Orihime knew that she'd never be able to hide what had changed within her from Kurosaki now, nor conceal the part she had left behind.

"You bastards, what did you do to Inoue?" Orihime didn't miss the use of the plural and thanked whoever was listening that Ichigo hadn't worked anything out. But before Grimmjow could change that, she had to do something.

"Santen Kesshun, Koten Zanshun, I reject, I reject," Orihime whispered and although both males heard her, it was too late. Tsubaki forced Ichigo further away while she secluded herself and Grimmjow behind a doming barrier.

"Don't," Orihime pleaded, heavy eyes not meeting his speculating gaze. She didn't know how she would feel or react if she made contact with his hypnotic blue stare. "Just please, don't" She didn't hold much hope, but she had to try.

"What the fuck should I care?" He tried to keep his voice nonchalant.

"What difference does it make?" Orihime turned away from him in exasperation and in an attempt to hide her heavy flow of tears. She didn't know what else to say, it was almost a lost cause. She gave it one last shot. "Does it really bother you that much? That I'm leaving with him?"

That question caught him off guard, ironically since he'd been asking himself exactly that for the past hour or so. In his hesitation, Orihime had lowered the barrier and Ichigo seized Orihime and fled, taking Grimmjow's advice from before.

It was a few minutes before Grimmjow turned to leave the vicinity, the humans long gone. Then he realised what he'd done: not only had he literally let the enemy escape – Aizen was going to make him pay for that one – but he realised that it did bother him that Ichigo had taken her. That he had taken what was his. '_Shit._'

- - - - -

He'd been worried that they would have come after her again; Ichigo had never left her apartment for the entire two months she had been back. He figured that she was just as nervous too, if the alterations within her were anything to go by.

He wanted more than anything to know what had happened to her there, what the hell they had done to her, but he refused to bring up the subject and put her through it all again. Ichigo hoped that time would heal her eventually.

Orihime was well aware now that subconsciously she had been trying to push Ichigo away, that a part of her being rejected everything about him. She tried to force that part out of her system, and Orihime became almost artificially attached to Ichigo, the connections made always slightly false.

Their relationship had progressed forward, physically. At first Ichigo had assumed that Inoue didn't want to spend the nights alone after her ordeal, and eventually wanted to replace bad memories with good ones. But as experiences had built up, he found he couldn't hold and protect her quite right; he couldn't understand her as well as before; he couldn't touch her quite right.

Orihime needed more than his gentle love; more than his protection. She wanted lust and passion; she wanted pain. All things Ichigo could never give her. She realised she needed some time to sort her messed up head out, time that Ichigo would never grant her. They were stuck in a rut.

Everything became clear when that familiar spiritual pressure announced the presence of a certain Espada. Ichigo could practically feel the exhilaration emanating from Orihime and he instantly knew. He didn't ask questions; he just left. Orihime saw the look in his copper eyes, the intent of a hunter.

He locked the door on his way out, locking her in. Orihime now had to sit around her apartment like nothing life changing was going on in the world, waiting. She didn't know what outcome she was hoping for; of course she knew what she _should_ be praying for, but that thought scared her still. She didn't want either of them to die; she hated herself for that.

In a moment of clarity, Orihime suddenly saw that Ichigo had probably known – or at least to some extent – everything all along. So did that mean he had left with envy in his heart? Orihime didn't think so, his eyes displayed anger – not aimed at her however. She realised now that Ichigo had left to defend her from the Espada's offence: that her feelings were tossed aside so degradingly. Even though she had betrayed him, Ichigo still wanted to defend her.

And that meant by killing Grimmjow. That was why he had locked her in, trapped her; because as irrational as it sounded, Inoue didn't want Grimmjow dead and Ichigo knew it. Fuelled with determination, Orihime let herself out with the aid of Tsubaki, only to be stopped by the tall figure of the teal-haired Arrancar approaching her apartment.

'_Not covered in blood, that's a good start._' Orihime instantly met Grimmjow's blue gaze and her reaction was just as to be expected: the whole 'butterflies in stomach and heart doing back-flips' deal. "What happened?" Orihime managed to whisper.

"The fucker ain't dead, if that's what you're askin'" Grimmjow replied abruptly.

"He let you get away?" Orihime wondered, her voice thick with disbelief.

"Somethin' like that." He didn't want to admit it, but the Shinigami had stopped fighting as soon as he realised why Grimmjow was here.

Orihime didn't like how she wanted to advance, to get closer to what she had missed in the last two months, while Grimmjow just seemed to hover unaffectedly. Eventually, she voiced her insecurity. "Why are you here, Grimmjow?"

"That's obvious, isn't it?" Grimmjow suddenly moved forward, so quick that when Orihime blinked, Grimmjow was unexpectedly directly before her; close enough that they were almost touching.

Orihime looked up, startled by the amount of emotion swimming in his blue eyes, '_could that be affection? No._'

Quicker than Orihime would have thought possible, Grimmjow had pulled her body flush against his and dropped his chin to her shoulder, his mouth caressing her ear with the words her heart was desperate to hear."To claim what's mine."

Grimmjow smirked as he felt her heart skip several beats but it was Orihime who pulled them together in a heated kiss. Her kiss was filled with all of her relief as her insecurities washed away while his contained the true extent of his sentiments towards her.

It was strange that in such a little amount of time, her life had become dependent on one being, even stranger was who that being was. Grimmjow didn't understand what about her that he found so addictive and why his very existence needed her so, but he stopped trying to understand.

The complexities of what they found a perfect '_love_' were insignificant to the wars around them. They both knew that their lives would be easier that if each time they tried to say goodbye, they meant it, but in all reality, they couldn't. No, they just had to be careful – very careful – about their secret.


	3. Raining Cats and Dogs

Title: Raining Cats and Dogs

Summary: Grimmjow's sent to bring Orihime back but gets distracted.

Word Count: 2734

Warnings: Lemony goodness and language – of course.

Genre: Romance

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.

It had been easier than she had thought. Wonderweiss created her exit when asked, and she was gone before he'd realised what he'd done. Sure, Aizen wouldn't be happy and would probably send Ulquiorra after her to get her back, but she was sure that Kurosaki-kun wouldn't let that happen, not again.

Orihime looked down the familiar streets of Karakura town, sighing happily as the rising sun broke its way in between the buildings. She made her way slowly through the empty roads, trying to soak up her entire home in one glace, but completely stopped when she caught her reflection in a shop window. There was something, though she didn't know what, but there was definitely something different in her expression; her blinding white uniform didn't help. Although at first she had been disappointed that she hadn't immediately seen familiar faces, she was now grateful that no one would see her wandering the town in her Arrancar getup.

Pulling her gaze away from the stranger looking back at her, Orihime felt the few drops of rain land on her head before the heavens opened above her, causing her to dash to the shelter of her home.

A wet Orihime arrived at her front door and she fumbled under the stone step for her hidden key. Key in hand, she was unexpectedly nervous about entering her own home, the rain still trying to wash her away. What had changed here? How long had she even been away? A crack of thunder interrupted her thoughts and, deciding she was just being silly, she unlocked the stiff door.

Two-week's worth of mail obstructed her entry but she was relieved to find that she hadn't actually been away that long. Not wanting her precious bills to become illegible from the waterfall outside, Orihime shuffled inside quickly and dead-bolted the door locked again.

Looking around her apartment, Orihime got the feeling that no one had been there for the past two weeks, meaning that Rangiku and Captain Hitsugaya must have left soon after herself. Had they gone back to the Soul Society? It suddenly dawned on her that no one knew she was back yet and she immediately picked up the phone and dialled the first number that came to mind.

Isshin Kurosaki answered quickly, obviously an early start at the clinic today.

"Kurosaki Clinic, Doctor Kurosaki speaking. How may I help?" Ichigo's father sounded automatic.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Doctor Kurosaki, but is Ichigo there? It's Inoue by the way," Orihime asked politely.

"Ah, sorry Orihime, but Ichigo's on vacation at the moment. Kinda thought you were with them, mind you," Isshin replied. "Sorry, Orihime, but one of the patients is having a fit. Hope you're well."

Orihime looked at the buzzing receiver. _Vacation_? The possibility that Ichigo and the others were already trying to rescue her had completely slipped her mind. _I'll have to go see Mr. Urahara later_. Orihime hoped that he'd be able to help her out, even if he was somewhat surprised by her abrupt arrival.

Orihime turned around, rather stiffly as she realised her uniform was clinging to her body after the downpour. In fact, after running in the rain, she felt utterly disgusting. Deciding a bath was needed, Orihime instantly stripped and promptly settled into hot bubbly water.

,',',',',

Purposeful footfalls echoed in the white walls of Las Noches as Gin Ichimaru searched for idle and capable hands. Spying the Sexta Espada wandering aimlessly, Gin pounced.

"Hmmm, Grimmjow, I've got a job for you," Ichimaru called in sing-song.

Snarling, Grimmjow turned sharply to face Gin. "What d'ya want, git?"

"Now, now, be nice. We seem to have mislaid our dear pet-sama, in the World of the Living to be exact. Go fetch," Gin ordered with a voice dripping with compassion.

"I ain't your fuckin' retriever," Grimmjow retorted violently.

"If you do as you're told, you may earn some brownie points," Gin paused as Grimmjow's glare intensified. "But if you don't, you may lose that arm again."

Grimmjow watched as Ichimaru glided back where he came, white coat billowing behind him.

"Have her back by dinner, Grimmjow," Gin called as he turned the corner, out of sight.

,',',',

"Shit," Grimmjow muttered as he stepped out of the portal into the World of the Living. It was raining, the cherry on his metaphorical crap cake. He was very nearly tempted just to go straight back empty handed but he knew that Gin was in no way kidding about losing his recently-gained arm. "She's more bloody trouble that she's worth," He concluded.

Snarling, Grimmjow searched for the girl's spiritual power and quickly located it. Looking forward to it, and hoping she would struggle, he sped off in the direction of Orihime's apartment.

Landing on her roof, the blue-haired Arrancar was far from dry and even further from happy. He hopped off the slates silently with every intention of blasting her door completely from its hinges but the sight he caught in a steamed-up window distracted him from doing so.

A flushed and rather naked Orihime was currently stepping carefully out of her hot bath, completely oblivious to the fact that she was being watched. Shimmering droplets of water slid down her curvaceous figure, teasing Grimmjow's more primitive instincts, leaving trickles of moisture that he suddenly wanted to follow with his tongue. Her watcher stared as she covered her glistening body from his keen eyes with a fluffy white towel. When the distraction left his eyes, Grimmjow continued his intention where he left off.

All the more interested in getting past the door, his boot left little remains of what was once Orihime's front door. Of course, the deafening crash attracted the attention of a very startled Orihime.

At first, the vision of a soaking Grimmjow was rather peculiar, but reality dawned upon her and she knew she was absolutely defenceless against the apparently agitated Espada. With a frail hope of survival, Orihime spun around and fled to the kitchen, aiming for the back door, completely forgetting her state of just-in-a-towel.

Making it as far as the kitchen was a small achievement when being chased by Grimmjow but she didn't get much further. He blocked her path by planting his hand on the cupboard next to her, his strong arm blocking her path. His other arm mirrored the first, trapping Orihime between the kitchen counter-top and Grimmjow's dripping wet body.

Knowing she was still trying to think of an escape route, Orihime's captor advanced his body towards her own, demonstrating that any attempts of fleeing were futile.

Totally absorbed by his proximity, Orihime's hand, one that had previously been clutching her towel to her chest, dropped to her side forgetfully.

The towel would have fallen to a pool of white at their feet had Grimmjow not pressed his body flush against her shuddering form. However, Orihime found that she wasn't shaking in fear or even the chill of the winter air on her wet skin, but in anticipation; anticipation and excitement.

"You didn't honestly think you'd get out and everythin' would be fine, did ya?" Grimmjow leaned into her ear, his voice huskier than he'd expected. "'Cause if so, tough luck."

Orihime dropped her head, failure washing over her. Of course she should have known nothing would ever be as easy as that. Grimmjow's hand under her chin forced her to look into his piercing stare, one that made her weak at the knees and everywhere else.

"Tch, it ain't that bad, girl. Well, maybe it is," Orihime found his odd attempt at comforting her amusing, and her quiet giggle replaced her feeling of defeat. It was only then she realised that Grimmjow had not lifted his head from the side of hers, and she could feel the rain water drip off onto her shoulder, the splashes destroying the silence.

Grimmjow lowered his arms from the cupboards, confident that she didn't particularly want to be going anywhere, if her fluttering heartbeat was anything to go by. His hands found themselves holding on tightly to her hips, bringing her body even closer to his, making his appreciation of their situation very clear.

Her reaction was comical: her wide eyes nearly popped out in awareness, her flushed cheeks reddening all the more and her fluttering heart starting performing back-flips. Grimmjow saw no element of fear in her grey eyes, no hint that she would attempt to stop his advances, but he could never be sure with her intentions.

"Play along girl, and I may take you back in one piece," Grimmjow's rough voice encompassed Orihime's entire being, and no matter how wrong she thought the feelings were, she knew she would do nothing to stop him. His tongue licked a hungry line from the lobe of her ear, along her jaw line to the corner of her parted lips, before he stole the gorgeously plump appendages in a lustful kiss.

Orihime responded wholeheartedly and reciprocated the kiss just as needy. His tight grip around her waist intensified and he sucked her lower lip into his playful mouth, making her moan into the kiss. Grimmjow took advantage of her parted lips and his tongue delved into her warm mouth, controlling the kiss with ease.

Orihime's hands rose from her sides to his well-muscled arms and then grasped onto the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. When he growled in appreciation, Orihime gained the confidence to let her tongue join the dance with his. She tangled her fingers within his wet hair while all he had to do was tug slightly on the towel in his hands to bare her skin to his touch. Grimmjow kissed down her neck hungrily while his roaming hands crept along her waist to cup her full breasts, kneading the wet mounds, callused thumbs brushing over her sensitive peaks.

"Oh, mmmm, oh yes," Orihime voiced her enjoyment with soft moans as she pushed Grimmjow's jacket over his shoulders, a jacket that had done nothing to shield him from the weather she discovered when she revealed his damp shoulders.

The Espada smirked when he heard her whine of disappointment as his hands ceased their pleasurable torture upon her breasts to shrug his jacket to the floor but was surprised that she immediately pulled him closer in a kiss burning with desire. Her hands were everywhere, caressing the back of his neck, chasing the water droplets on his shoulders, tracing the definitions of his abdomen; not wanting to be outdone by her inquisitive hands, Grimmjow's own resumed their positions on her heaving chest, before one teasingly followed the trickles of water down her midriff.

Orihime's breathing increased in eagerness and she absentmindedly bit down on his tongue when his fingers reached her soft curls before running a long finger along her wet sex, knowing full well that the moisture there was not just because of her bath. Her breath hitched when the digit entered her slowly, touching spots previously unknown, before it leisurely retreated and filled her again.

"Oh Gods, don't stop," she begged quietly. Orihime's hands returned to his neck as she found herself needing extra support as her legs began to give under his ministrations. Noticing this, Grimmjow easily lifted her to rest on the counter and used his own body to keep her legs parted for him. She pulled him towards her again for another needy kiss while she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep his body close to hers.

Feeling her core begin to constrict around his finger, predicting her release, Grimmjow slowly removed his now dripping finger, much to the girl's displeasure. Orihime allowed her eyes to drop in frustration but when they raised, her arousal increased inexplicitly upon seeing him lick her essence from his finger. This time, she was pulled into his hungry kiss, tasting the faint sweetness that was her pleasure on his tongue. She pulled his body closer to hers, already missing the connection.

Grimmjow groaned into her mouth when he felt her warmth press against his erection and he instantly gripped her hips to grind his own against hers. Without asking her permission, he freed his engorged member and rubbed his arousal against her moist opening. Orihime moaned at the friction and tightened her thighs' grip on his hips responsively. Without warning, he thrust his cock into her welcoming heat, causing her eyes to water at the intrusion. Grimmjow gave her no concern with his immediate hard thrusts into her too-tight cavern, it wasn't until he felt her tears on his shoulder join the water droplets from his hair that he slowed, slightly.

The pain was unbearable; Orihime had not had a chance to see his size but from just the feel of him inside her she wondered how there was enough room in her body. However slight his decrease in speed was, it was exactly what changed the most excruciating pain to the most intense pleasure for Orihime. Her previously denied release re-emerged with each pound into her core and after only a few more intrusions, Orihime reached her orgasm, clutching onto Grimmjow's shoulders so tightly the crescent indentations bled.

Feeling her now impossibly tight pussy clench around him, trying to keep his length inside of her, Grimmjow slowed remarkably, adjusting as she came down from her high. While under her daze, he picked her panting form up and carried her to the breakfast table, where he laid her down carefully, her legs hanging off the edge, all the while never breaking their connection.

"Please," Orihime simply begged, her frustration growing with the lack of friction, before she contracted her warmth tightly around his member.

Grimmjow groaned and stole her lips in a passionate kiss as he began to move in and out of her again while he brought a hand up to caress her left breast. Orihime moaned and arched into his touch as she trailed her hands along his muscled abdomen, memorising every crevice under her fingertips.

He wanted to make her scream her pleasure, to voice her wants and desires, and more importantly, he wanted to hear her cry his name with upmost satisfaction. Grimmjow pound into her harder and faster, making her moans increase with euphoric pleasure.

"Ah, ah yes, yes! G-, G- ah, ahh!" Grimmjow smirked at her attempts of communication while she came, hard, around him, pulling him in so tightly he thought he'd explode. Closing his eyes as her pleasured expression and the way she bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed nearly did it for him, he gave Orihime no reprieve from his relentless fucking.

The immediate crescendo building up within her caused her eyes to widen and her legs to wrap around his hips tightly.

"Yes, Gri-, Grimm- yes, harder! Oh Gods, please, harder!" Orihime begged as she thrashed on her breakfast table then biting down on her lip again.

Grimmjow saved the red appendage from more damage by pulling her bruised lip into his mouth and then kissed her lustfully. He thrust into her heat harder, feeling his release approaching as well. He groaned into the kiss as he felt her walls tighten incredibly around him, but when he heard her scream his name as she came, her joined her forcefully in bliss.

His panting body lay above hers until his breath reached norm again. He then picked her shaky form up and set her on her feet, and began dressing. Fully clothed, Grimmjow looked at her still naked form, staring into space, and snapped his fingers sharply in front of her lost expression.

"Get dressed," He ordered. When her washy grey eyes only blinked, Grimmjow lifted her by the waist and carried her back into the hallway.

"Bedroom," Orihime directed and pointed to the door with her name on the panel.

Grimmjow set her back on her feet and watched as she scampered to her chest of draws and selected a set of white underwear before opening her wardrobe. She'd just picked a pair of jeans when her white uniform landed on the back of her head.

She turned around and reality hit her as she remembered what this meant. She rejected time's affects on the garment, effectively cleaning the item, before sighing, absolutely deflated. Orihime dutifully donned the uniform and felt Grimmjow immediately pull her out of her apartment, dragging her through the portal; back to Hueco Mundo.


	4. The Joys of Catnip

Title: The Joys of Catnip

Summary: After educating Ulquiorra about catnip, Orihime only makes matters worse for herself when she tries to intervene with his plans. Another one that got away with me ... I guess I'm in a real WAFF mood atm.

Word Count: 4254

Warnings: Lemony stuff, of course, and a fair amount of lingo.

Genre: Romance / Humour

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.

* * * *

In a world as bleak as this, the dazed ramblings of the small blond Arrancar made me smile. In fact – all the time the pure intent to kill didn't encompass the slighter Hollow – the presence of the child-like being became much more preferable than the bitter loneliness the alternative offered. Don't get me wrong, Ulquiorra visited more often than previously, and he'd talk more than he did at first, but his stoic conversation didn't hold much next to the endless chatter and games Wonderweiss and I shared.

When I first introduced the game of tag to him, it had taken both Ulquiorra and Ichimaru Samas' efforts to remove Wonderweiss from the room. Of course, my laughter only encouraged him, as did the former Soul Reaper's sarcastic scolding. Only the unemotional Ulquiorra had meant business, reminding the diminutive Arrancar of his place.

Today started like no other: my unlocked door invited my playmate in and by mid morning, he had me pinned, tickling my sides like there was no tomorrow. In a fit, I knocked one of my hairpins out of place, causing it to fly across the room. Distracted by the sparkling light, Wonderweiss ceased his hold upon my ribs before lunging after the glittering object. Hairpin in hand, he became fascinated by the rainbow of colours reflected from the stones under the artificial light of Aizen's moon.

Never before had I witnessed Wonderweiss's interest in ... well, shiny things. As it happened, the Espada positioned as my carer entered as I giggled endlessly at the Arrancar's study of my hairpin. Ulquiorra merely stood in the doorway and observed as I approached Wonderweiss in an attempt to peel my accessory away from his small hands. He posed no struggle but instead watched with undivided concentration as I slid it in place.

I stood up to bow at the Espada in the doorway before sitting down to eat the breakfast that followed Ulquiorra's entrance. Wonderweiss sat happily in my lap as I ate, all the while reaching for the still glimmering hair slide. Although I could never grow agitated with such an adorable creature, his increasingly energetic movements gradually became tiresome.

"Wonderweiss, please, let me eat," I asked the Hollow politely, it sometimes worked. Not today, however. Sighing, I grabbed hold of his wrists before forcing them to his sides. "I said give it a rest," I didn't like raising my voice to him, but much like a toddler, he learnt from my harsher words. If I didn't know any better, the blonde's expression that followed resembled a pout more than anything.

As soon as I set my chop sticks down, the jumpy boy was already after the sparkly metal slides. Rolling my eyes, I took one out and set it on the arm of my couch before placing my breakfast things on the tray.

"Thank you, Ulquiorra Sama. Are there any meetings planned for today?" I asked the silent Espada conversationally.

"No," He replied with finality, however he remained in the doorway, green eyes following my movements. I smiled uncomfortably before turning to the smaller Arrancar.

"You're like a little magpie when it comes to shiny things, aren't you?" I joked as I approached Wonderweiss.

His violet eyes met mine as he tentatively replaced the hair slide, "'Hime-chan," He mumbled cutely as he did so. His calm character reverted to his hyperactive self so quickly it startled me and sent me flying onto the couch. A fluttering moth had flown into my room and the Hollow was following it as though his life depended on it.

"Nope, you're more like a child on caffeine! You're just so hyperactive." I commented more to myself. "Or a monkey on sugar, or a cat on catnip." I stood when the moth escaped through the bars of my window, leaving Wonderweiss staring into the expanse of desert. I picked up his motionless form, knowing that something would distract him from the few seconds of sadness sooner or later.

I was right, the child in my arms perked up having felt the spiritual pressure of Tousen Sama nearby. He was gone within another moment, probably already following the footfalls of the ex-Shinigami.

I only then realised that Ulquiorra was still in my room.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Ulquiorra?" (_As if_), I asked the powerful Hollow. His cold green stare was answer enough.

"What was that you compared Wonderweiss to?" He abruptly demanded flatly.

The question caught me off guard, "Umm, a child on caffeine?" No response, "Umm, a cat on catnip?" Ulquiorra nodded affirmative. "Well, Wonderweiss acts quite hyperactive, much like a cat would under the influence of catnip." I saw the curiosity briefly flash behind the lifeless emeralds.

"Catnip is a special herb that can have ... interesting ... effects on cats. Like a unique cat drug," That made me laugh.

"Go on," His monotone voice held more interest than I had ever heard in it before. I found it odd that catnip concerned him at all; oh well.

"Well, umm, it has similar affects to anti-depressants you could say, like a cat on caffeine ... or drugs such as cannabis." I sounded like a text book, but that was better than letting the questions in my voice become known.

Ulquiorra simply breathed out, but momentarily looked as though he was about to ... scoff? "Where does this even occur?"

"Umm, I guess most herb gardens grow it but I always remembered there being a pretty rich patch on my walk home from school," The fond memories took over and before I knew it, I was rambling for Japan, "On my way home from middle school, whenever I walked by the woodland by one of the kiddy-parks I'd see a few housecats rolling around in the hedges. They were so cute and funny – hyperactive even," I cut myself short: the Espada had already left; although, to be honest, I would have bored even myself.

* * * *

I tried to keep my glances subtle, but I'm sure Ulquiorra knew I was watching him. Nothing about him had changed, not really; he insulted fracción just as much as normal, and essentially ignored all those beneath him. Nnoitra and Grimmjow both bugged him similarly as normal, Ulquiorra paying neither much attention – nothing new there either. Well, perhaps he insulted the latter less, which only served to provoke the destructive Arrancar.

It wasn't until three days later, when I was forced to endure another meeting that I began to piece things together. I was either very dense for not working it out sooner, or for being completely off my rocker.

At first I simply followed the faint smirk from green eyes to blue. Grimmjow didn't notice to begin with before he felt that he obstructed both our lines of sight. His frown met Ulquiorra's scheming stare and his anger grew more evident on his expression. Seeing Ulquiorra's growing sneer to this, Grimmjow forcefully shrugged off his glare, blocking out the Fourth's presence.

I never would have thought that Ulquiorra would have been one to sink so low, but after seeing such a contrast to his normally flat outlook, I instantly rethought my theory. I didn't have to have seen the Sexta's resurrecćion form to know his feline lineage: I could already tell so much from his movements; what his fracción spoke of his form before he became an Arrancar; the name of his sword and even the name 'Jaegerjaques'.

Ulquiorra was going to get him; and he was going to get him good too. Although the idea of Grimmjow under the affects of catnip was highly amusing, this Espada was one of the most violent of them all. He didn't need any more energy! This was going to get dangerous!

I should have explained more clearly to Ulquiorra how violent the cats could get, or at least toned down how _cute_ they were. I'd practically told him where to get the wretched stuff from. Dang, this was entirely my fault, and there wasn't a lot I could do.

It's not like I could just ask Ulquiorra to back off, the only time he had ever really listened to me was when I started this whole mess. But then again, I could give the other party a heads up. A dangerous task, maybe, but it could work. Chances were Grimmjow didn't have a clue about catnip and its effects – unless he had a secret stash and got high from time to time; unlikely – so the least I could do was tell him what I'd told Ulquiorra.

After the assembly, I chose a detour as I left the hall, following Grimmjow along the many hallways. Every time I nearly spoke, I backed out. Although not the strongest Espada, Grimmjow was the rudest. I received enough criticisms in this place without looking for them here.

"The fuck d'ya want, girl?" He demanded suddenly.

"Ah, umm," He could have given me a countdown with hand signals and he still would have caught me off guard. "Ulquiorra's going to set you on catnip," I blurted. Better to get this over with.

"Catnip, huh? What the hell's that?" Grimmjow asked, slightly calmer than before.

"Well, it's a herb that makes cats act ... differently." I answered carefully.

"And how the fuck would Ulquiorra know about something like that?" I heard the accusation in his voice. Darn it.

"Umm, I may have ... mentioned it ... accidentally," I stammered. Great, I do my good deed for the day and I'm most likely going to end up skewered on this Hollow's arms.

"Che, whatever girl," Grimmjow shrugged before turning away.

"Just be aware of what it is, that's all. That if you smell something really, _really_, nice, that it's probably catnip." I called after his retreating form but he was directly in front of me before I could blink.

His azure eyes bored down at me condescendingly, "It may surprise you, girl, but I _am_ more man than cat." With his sarcastic comment, Grimmjow made his way down the rest of the hallway.

Before I could start to worry as to where in Las Noches I was, Ulquiorra approached me from the opposite end of the hallway. Brilliant, he'd probably heard everything. Yup, his jade glare said it all.

"Even with a notice board warning him, trash like him wouldn't know what had hit him until it was too late," the Fourth Espada stated coolly. "Nice try, girl, but don't try to interfere again." His threat sent shivers running up and down my spine and I still hadn't calmed down even by the time I was tucked up in my comfy bed. Tonight was going to be a long night.

* * * *

I felt better when I woke up: I'd tried to help but it wasn't my fault that the Sixth Espada was too arrogant for his own good. That's just his bad luck. I had a shower and washed my hair, as per usual, before I felt the surge of Aizen's spiritual pressure spread through his palace, informing all he was planning a meeting in the near future.

I was on time to the meeting but my clean hair was still marginally damp. Throughout most of the meeting, I tried to comb my hair through with my fingers to avoid it knotting while I drank my tea, while of _course_ giving Aizen Sama my undivided attention. Even if I had intended to listen to every word the once Soul Reaper said, Ulquiorra's constant watch distracted me greatly.

What was he waiting for? Normally bored eyes were today impatient, a very slight alteration which I could only just notice. I fidgeted more than necessary under his cold stare, playing with my now mostly-dry hair self consciously. An unexpected glimmer behind the green orbs told me that his wait was over.

I was suddenly no longer under the Fourth's scrutinising observation but instead, Grimmjow was the object of his study. I too watched with mild interest as the cerulean haired Espada caught scent of something new in the air. Had I not felt overly cautious from the potential danger, I would have found the Sixth Espada's reaction very funny.

At first, blue eyes simply widened before his sensitive nose twitched while trying to identify the source of the strange smell. His more animalistic instincts caused his ears to respond to every minute sound and I'm sure he didn't normally scratch the back of his neck so much before. Why did Ulquiorra's faint knowing smirk make me believe that Grimmjow's fidgeting would in no way be the worst of this?

Before the table's other occupants became aware of Grimmjow's abnormal behaviour, the gathering was dismissed, although how many had actually paid attention to much else besides 'and that is all for today's update' was debatable.

I didn't leave immediately; instead I lingered to see if either Ulquiorra or Grimmjow would move first. However, Grimmjow's eyes merely darted about the hall, no doubt searching for the cause of the scent while Ulquiorra just sat monitoring the situation.

A few moments passed without change before I decided to vacate the vicinity. I didn't get far before I heard a second pair of footsteps close behind me. I made it to my door, the stalker following still, but not much further before Grimmjow suddenly stepped in front of me, irritation – or confusion – mapped across his features. Oh, what had I done wrong now?

I was about to ask what he wanted but I was startled as he unexpectedly buried his nose in my hair, pulling my body close to his as he drew in the scent of it. I heard his vague hum of approval as he lent down, making his way to my neck where he continued sniffing my skin. Even if I'd had the courage to question his actions, somewhere along the line I lost the ability to use my voice.

All this time I had been worried about the Espada becoming _more _psychotically dangerous, and yet I found myself having difficulty remembering just how to use my legs to keep myself upright when I felt his searching tongue caress my throat. In an attempt to remain stable, I clung to Grimmjow's shoulders while his strong grip on my waist held me tighter against his chest.

I didn't even realise I was moaning into his ear until a playful bite to my collar bone elicited a louder gasp, and at the same time I noticed for the first time that the Sixth Arrancar was purring against me. Despite my moans of pleasure and Grimmjow's constant hum of enjoyment, I still managed to detect the slight footfalls of Ulquiorra's approach; and even in the wake of my distracted and blurred vision, I could still note the minor smirk that graced the Fourth's stoic mask.

"What did you ... oohhh ... do?" I managed to hiss at the other Arrancar, but not without my excited sigh.

I don't know if Ulquiorra responded or not: Grimmjow had forced me against my door before it burst open, resulting in the strangely – and _wonderfully _– affectionate Espada pinning me to the cold floor while he ravaged the bare skin of my neck.

I dimly remember Grimmjow kicking the door closed, but my mind was preoccupied as he pulled my collar out of his way, freeing his path lower down. His hurried hands fumbled with my white bodice but he eventually removed the offending garment.

The cold marble floor against my spine woke me from my delightful trance and I forced myself to sit up slightly, shying away from the freezing surface. The Espada above didn't seem to mind, he simply leant up with me, still eradicating all articles of clothing from my body.

Soon enough, I found myself naked and shivering against the chilled floor but melting beneath Grimmjow's amazing ministrations. Either sensing my discomfort or desiring a change of location, the blue haired Arrancar lifted my body easily and immediately placed me haphazardly upon my bed, not once abandoning my apparently addictive flesh.

His tongue was everywhere: lazily lapping at my shoulders; eagerly sucking on my pressure-points; teasingly working its way across my breasts. I felt the strong Arrancar lie in between my legs as he kissed his way closer and closer to the darkened tip of my left breast.

I didn't need to latch onto his hair once his lips had made contact with my nipple to keep him there: evidently Grimmjow was happy to remain exactly where he was for some time, sucking intently on my sensitive skin. My long string of moans turned into a mantra of bliss as one of the Espada's hands rose to please my otherwise neglected breast.

I was in heaven. No coherent thoughts could pass through my cloudy mind as the dangerous Hollow caused my body to experience the most erotic and sinful pleasures I'd ever felt. Having little control over my limbs, I eventually clung to Grimmjow's shoulders, desperately trying to relieve some of the mind blowing tension he was building up. My legs wrapped themselves around his still clothed person and I subconsciously began to grind myself against his hips in an attempt to alleviate the growing need.

The need was becoming unbearable but it seemed the Arrancar was quite content to simply lick my skin until the cows came home, which did absolutely nothing to help my growing frustration. I didn't understand why Grimmjow was so utterly distracted, but that worried me less and less as the minutes ticked by and the tension in the pit of my stomach only grew.

I could feel the Espada's appreciation of the situation rubbing against the apex of my thighs, creating marvellous friction that I wanted more of. I knew what I needed; I could almost feel the heat emanating from his arousal and every time I moved myself against the hard length, his attentions to my neck and chest intensified.

I was scared; Grimmjow was in no way a friendly creature and despite his current behaviour, he had never been anything but rude to me. Although I knew he could have been a lot worse, he still didn't fill the criteria of the character that should be in my arms. But despite this, no one had ever made my heart race like he apparently could and if I didn't do something about my increasing desire, I might have imploded right then and there.

Anxiety caused my hands to shake as they pushed away his jacket, revealing more of the tanned, toned skin I was already memorising. He shifted his body briefly to allow me to remove the clothing and he adjusted accordingly as I pulled his hakamas lower after removing the black sash from his body.

I didn't know where to look; he knew what I wanted now and it embarrassed me somewhat. I needn't have worried because my troubled eyes were met with a surprisingly calming blue gaze. The look was brief: his talented tongue soon resumed its incredible caress of my sensitive skin, reminding me of what I needed so badly.

Moaning with desire, I rubbed myself against him again, this time without the barrier of his clothing. The sensation of his heated member against my wet core was exhilarating and without another thought, I altered my position slightly to lie beneath the Espada more comfortably.

Grimmjow startled me by unexpectedly capturing my lips with his. I only then realised that I hadn't kissed him before just then, in fact I had never actually kissed anyone before that hungry moment of passion, directly before I felt the Espada thrust into me.

I could not stop myself from biting down on his tongue when I felt the sharp pain of his intrusion. I found the sting too sudden to cry but as soon as I felt the soothing and now familiar touches of his tongue and lips against my throat, the pain quickly dissipated.

The burning desire returned full throttle and I moved against his hips experimentally. Grimmjow's answering purr told me to continue but after only two rotations, my actions slowed. It was my turn to hum my pleasure when the Espada began to move in and out of my body, slowly at first. My moans of pleasure increased respectively as his thrusts accelerated gradually.

I tried to keep up with his motion, but in the end I could only tug on his shoulders and hold his body as close to my figure as possible. My hands glided over his back until they tangled themselves in the messy teal hair that was one of his most defining characteristics.

I accidentally tugged on the cerulean strands as I felt the burning desire suddenly rise exponentially, causing my body to shake under his warm skin. I began moaning his name repeatedly as the need continued to grow, beyond what I thought my body could handle. I think I screamed his name when the desire suddenly uncoiled, an explosion of pleasure surging through my body as I struggled to remain conscious after my first orgasm.

Grimmjow's constant purr displayed his approval as the volume of his delighted hum augmented while my core quivered around him, his hot length still pumping in and out of my body.

I don't know how long he brought such pleasure to my body; days may have drifted by without our notice or his release of my neck; I lost count of how many times he caused my body to convulse around him. Although some details may be lost to my dim memory, I know that when I finally did sleep, I slept better than I ever had before.

I woke up resting atop Grimmjow's gently rising and falling chest, my legs lost in the mess of limbs beneath the sheets. Had I owned a clock, I wouldn't have checked the time: I didn't want to have to wake up; I didn't want to have to leave his side.

But life wasn't that kind. Before long, nature called and I untangled myself from knot that we had formed and I eventually reached my bathroom. While I was there I decided a shower was a good idea: my body felt sweaty and sticky.

Under the scalding water, I deftly fumbled for my shower gel on the shelf before I squeezed a globe of the fruity gel onto my hand. The bottle needed some shaking and I opened my eyes to find it nearly empty. I sighed, knowing that it wouldn't be easy persuading Ulquiorra to let me go home briefly to stock up on supplies again, while I took a closer look at the tube, calculating how many showers I had left.

It was under that greater inspection I noticed the tiny flecks suspended in the liquid that I was sure weren't there before. After scrutinizing the bottle as though its contents held the answer to life, I concluded the minute particles were fine shreds of herbs. Wide-eyed, I realised exactly what Ulquiorra had done. He'd spiked my shampoo with catnip!

Not to mention, he'd gone to a lot of trouble to do so.

Still considerably flabbergasted, I set the bottle to the side without using the gel to wash before I stepped out of the shower, hoping my wash bag still held some form of soap. My luck made a turn for the better and I cleansed myself of all traces of the plant.

Only then did I realise what my discovery meant. Last night had been nothing more than a drug-induced high. Ulquiorra probably hadn't intended things to turn out the way they did, but I suddenly blamed him for all the hurt and rejection that came crashing down upon me. I felt so played; my emotions just got caught up in his game!

I hoped Grimmjow would wake up and go before I had to re-emerge from my bathroom: I didn't want him to see how the recent events had affected me. I clambered out of the shower again and, this time, wrapped myself in my fluffy pink towel, trying to keep myself from crying in the corner.

I mentally cringed when the bathroom door suddenly opened. I occupied myself with drying my body, refusing to turn around. The Arrancar caught me off guard – no longer a first – by pulling my towel-covered body close to his while he leant his chin against my shoulder. I was unsure of what to expect but his gentle kisses and licks to my _clean_ skin was not the reaction I anticipated at all.

Had I not washed the godforsaken stuff off? I didn't need this!

"Am I still covered in catnip?" I tried to make my voice light, but I'm sure he heard my distaste plainly.

"Nope," Grimmjow replied assuredly, but still distracted. "You just taste real good."

I'm positive he heard my reaction that time. That one little sentence that told me he actually wanted me was enough to have my heart fluttering uncontrollably. He scoffed at my increased pulse rate before he kissed my neck again prior to getting in the shower.

I was still feeling giddy as I turned to exit the bathroom and I yelped in shock when I felt Grimmjow's strong grasp pull me back into the shower, flush against his body. Maybe he _was_ more man than cat than I previously thought.


	5. Can A Leopard Change Its Spots? Part A

Title: Can a Leopard Change its Spots? [Part A]

Summary: Ulquiorra bets that Grimmjow can't get Orihime into bed while also wagering that Orihime can't find a good person in him. Of course, both parties want to prove him wrong – moral of the story, don't get caught up when Ulquiorra is bored.

Word Count: 2996

Warnings: Language and sexual themes.

Genre: Romance

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.

Knowing that today would just be another with nothing to do, Ulquiorra resolutely headed towards the 'den', the only room in Las Noches that the Espadas could kick back in, one that Starrk kept well stocked with bean bags. Even from down the hallway, Ulquiorra knew the conversation he could already hear was not one he particularly wanted to be a part of.

Ulquiorra rolled his eyes as he heard Nnoitra's voice claim he'd 'dominated' the most women out of the Espada, and almost face-palmed when he heard Grimmjow bark back that he'd slept with every girl here.

As Ulquiorra entered the room, he saw Starrk typically snoring in the centre of the mountain of bean bags, Szayel observing the argument cross-legged on a cushion, Grimmjow comfortably reclined on a couple of bean bags and Nnoitra standing and glaring down at the cocky expression of the Sixth Espada.

"To be fair, Grimmjow, with some of these girls around here, that's not much of an achievement," Szayel reasoned as Ulquiorra perched on a bean bag next to him. He continued, "For instance, some of Harribel's fracción aren't exactly subtle with their advances. It took a lot of persistence to fight Mila-Rose off me."

Grimmjow and Nnoitra looked briefly thoughtful before nodding in agreement.

"And, to be honest with you, it is in fact more of an accomplishment to say you _haven't_ had sex with Cirucci," Szayel commented.

"True, you know what, I don't think there's a guy around here she ain't fucked. 'Cept Pale-Dark-and-Gloomy over there," Grimmjow concurred while nodding in Ulquiorra's direction.

"Actually, Grimmjow, Cirucci came to my bed soon after leaving yours." Ulquiorra mentally cringed as he managed to get himself involved with the conversation while Grimmjow stood wanting to hit Ulquiorra for the implied insult. Sighing, he continued nonetheless, "And no you haven't slept with every girl here."

Grimmjow stood motionless before curiosity got the better of him. "Who the fuck are ya on about?"

"I'm talking about Inoue, clearly," Ulquiorra answered as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And only when you've slept with her can you say you've slept with every girl here. If she would even sleep with you that is." Ulquiorra challenged with a sneer.

"I could get any girl I wanted. If I wanted her, she'd be under me before she could scream for help," Grimmjow countered confidently.

"Well until that happens, there is one conquest left unconquered," Ulquiorra baited. "And I bet you wouldn't be able to get her. Not willingly at least. I'm not sure about you, Grimmjow, but I find forcing a girl sort of defeats the objective." Ulquiorra left the den promptly, hoping that the next few days would become more interesting now.

-o-o-o-

Orihime stood bone stiff in the rays of light casted by the moon, staring into the milky white expanse of the crescent. She'd tried to cut down on how much she thought of her friends, but with so much time on her hands, she could think of nothing else, or more accurately, no _one_ else.

She heard her door swing open and she turned to see the blue-haired Espada approaching her. He was the one whose arm she'd had to restore, the one that had injured Kurosaki-kun so badly.

Orihime returned her gaze to the still moon, bracing herself for the verbal attacks sure to ensue, if not worse. She was gobsmacked to find that the intruder only stood next to her and mimicked her stare at the moon. Of course, the girl couldn't relax, constantly waiting for the hollow to cut to the chase and insult her.

She saw him take a deep breath in the corner of her eye and she turned to just look in awe as all he did was sigh whilst closing his cerulean eyes. When he opened his eyes, Orihime was immediately embarrassed that he was looking straight back at her own grey eyes, blushing that she'd been caught gawking.

Grimmjow scoffed at her unease making her look up, pouting at being laughed at. Catching her eye again, he smirked cheekily at her before walking briskly out. Orihime found she was slightly disappointed at his abrupt departure but was not alone for long.

-o-o-o-

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow exchanged glances as the latter crossed paths with the first's arrival. Ulquiorra stood aside to let the Arrancar pushing the girl's dinner tray enter and waited for Orihime to turn to him.

"Thank you, Ulquiorra," Orihime said, realising she was ravenous. She tucked into her sadly boring dinner of soup but appreciated the nourishment.

"I hope that Grimmjow did nothing out of order here," Ulquiorra stated, silently wondering just how fast Grimmjow was planning on moving. "Because you just have to say the word and he will no longer be admitted entrance to your dorm."

Orihime looked up from her meal, confused. "Um, no I'm fine," Of course she believed he was asking if he had injured her at all, "And no, I didn't mind his presence," She finished honestly.

"Are you sure? I think you'll find that he is the most obnoxious here, and that is saying something." No disgust or concern disrupted his level voice. He didn't predict Orihime's immediate response.

"Well, I don't think so. In fact he was actually quite pleasant," Orihime retorted, slightly angry at Ulquiorra's accusation. "I'm finished, thank you." She didn't understand why Ulquiorra had to find something negative _everywhere_. Some people here thought he was completely unemotional, but Orihime knew he was just depressing.

Ulquiorra took the hint and removed her dinner things mentally cursing Grimmjow. _Damn, he's put on a pretty decent act already. He may actually win this_. Turning back to Orihime, Ulquiorra changed everything.

"Quite frankly, you'll find yourself highly mistaken. I bet there isn't anything you'll find truly 'pleasant' about Grimmjow." The Fourth Espada challenged as he left Orihime's room.

-o-o-o-

Grimmjow knew it was just a bet, one he knew he could win, but the smug look he saw beneath Ulquiorra's emerald eyes every time the two crossed paths bugged him no end. Days later, Ulquiorra knew nothing had happened and appeared confident, even having the nerve to remind Grimmjow that there was no time limit and that he 'wouldn't win in a million years'.

Grimmjow wanted to win this, just to prove he could and he found himself looking at the situation objectively: firstly, Orihime was fucking hot, always a plus; secondly, tainting Kurosaki's lamb was a bonus he didn't want to pass up; and thirdly, he already had a head start, if the conversation he overheard between Orihime and Ulquiorra was anything to go by.

However, he knew there were going to be a couple of hurdles: the pathetic girl was obsessed with the Shinigami; she hated hollows; he was technically the enemy; she wouldn't want to be anywhere near him if he acted as normal (or as Ulquiorra put it, 'obnoxious'); and she was a 'good girl' and not likely to be 'easy'.

Grimmjow wondered if his challenge _was_ actually doable, but the prospect of her being off-limits made him want the prize so much more.

-o-o-o-

She didn't really understand why Ulquiorra wanted her to dislike Grimmjow so much, but now she was determined to find the good qualities about the Espada in question, hollow or not.

She found herself paying careful attention to the Espada but failed to see anything that would deem Grimmjow 'good'.

_Of course you can't, he's the bad guy here. Did you really expect to find an honest man in there?_

Orihime's voice of doom 'n' gloom accidentally managed to hit the light with that, as Orihime realised that, if nothing else, Grimmjow didn't lie or shield his views – to a certain extent, he was in fact 'honest'. Naturally, this could be seen as either a good or bad thing, but Orihime saw it in the positive.

Orihime decided to think about it for the rest of the day, as she'd already got a good start but by evening, all she'd discovered was that she'd bitten off far more that she could chew.

-o-o-o-

She'd been watching him all day, not that he minded too much, but Grimmjow did wonder why. At this afternoon's meeting, her eyes never left his person and he could feel the same grey eyes staring after him as he left the hall. Her eyes were studious, expectant, waiting for him to do something.

But when he did, when he barked pointless orders at his fracción or insulted Harribel's enough to scare them away, he felt the familiar silver eyes drop slightly with disappointment.

As soon as he entered his own quarters, Grimmjow fell back on his futon, finally at ease without someone studying every move he made. But even out of her sight, she apparently plagued his thoughts. The idea that he may not be able to get her still bothered him, but he refused to force himself upon her. As Ulquiorra had said, it would defeat the objective, but a woman unwillingly under him was, quite frankly, an insult; this was about pride, not dominance.

Grimmjow wanted her to want him. He couldn't deny himself that, and the very thought of her wanting him physically brought on an interesting affect. His arousal only grew as his mind danced across the idea of her _initiating_ what he wanted to do to her so badly.

-o-o-o-

Why was she so disappointed? Orihime was shocked to find how high her hopes had risen in just a matter of hours but they came to nothing. Perhaps Ulquiorra was right, as she'd seen more evidence to his statement than hers.

_Nobody around here is any good._ Oh joy, the voice was back. Once again, Orihime stood motionlessly in the moonlight, staring at the bleak sky in a search for inspiration. All she found was dejection. All the emotions she remembered feeling when her brother had left her re-emerged. The feeling of losing everyone she loved all at once was just as unbearable, if not worse because of the number of people who were torn from her sorrowful heart.

Tears fell from her eyes endlessly as despair overthrew her, not allowing her to notice her dinner's entrance.

"Oy," the sharp call startled Orihime and she turned around to see an extremely irritated Grimmjow standing by her dinner tray.

"Ulquiorra put me on dinner duty tonight, so you'd better not be too upset to eat," he snapped, anger flooding his mind. "What's got you so worked up anyway?" He demanded as she quickly tucked into her meal.

The Espada lounged on the sofa as Orihime merely shook her head in response. "It's nothing," She finally whispered.

Grimmjow knew better. "You're moping about that pathetic Shinigami aren't ya?" He scoffed, not expecting the uproar that ensued as the emotional girl was suddenly staring down in front of him.

"You're wrong, he isn't pathetic! He's a thousand times the man you could ever be!" After spending all day looking for something good in such a damned place as Hueco Mundo, Orihime couldn't keep anything else locked up. "He fights to protect the people he loves, as well as complete strangers. What do you fight for? Because someone tells you to?" Orihime paused, daring Grimmjow to contradict her truth.

"And how much respect do you even have for Aizen? You badmouth him more than any of the other Espada do, but still bend to his will." Orihime turned away from Grimmjow, closing her eyes slowly before continuing, her voice softer than before. "Ichigo acts how he sees best, not how someone tells him, even if that someone is stronger."

Orihime didn't see Grimmjow's expression, one that admitted she was right. She only heard his delayed response.

"Guys like me don't need a reason to fight." Grimmjow snarled, suddenly right behind her, gripping her shoulders roughly. "I'm a hollow, I ain't the good guy, and don't forget that."

He stalked out of her room, knowing he'd probably just wrecked any chances of winning the bet. Of course, Ulquiorra was once again conveniently in the hallway, having heard everything. He turned to his inferior, the smug look in his eyes not wasted on Grimmjow at all.

"Just shut it, I ain't givin' up," Grimmjow growled as he returned to his own room.

-o-o-o-

Orihime didn't really know what to say; how to describe things. 'Surprising' was the best she came up with. 'Shocking', perhaps; 'astonishing' was also a definite maybe.

Grimmjow's entire character towards her had changed. She didn't really think she could have that much influence on him, but Orihime couldn't think of a single other reason for it. _Perhaps being compared to Ichigo struck a nerve,_ Orihime wondered, smiling deviously.

Either way, she first noticed his new persona when, as the pair of them walked the hallways towards the day's meeting, she managed to lose her footing on one of the many staircases. She had expected to tumble down while her companion laughed, but Orihime was amazed that she had stayed upright as her companion had caught hold of her arm and suspended her easily by the waist. Grimmjow had given her a patronising smirk before carrying Orihime the rest of the way, his expression clearly saying, 'You'd only fall down again anyway'.

After that, only Grimmjow brought the prisoner her meals, only he entered her room. He stayed with Orihime as she ate; listening to her prattle about absurd things or just watching her if she remained silent.

As days flew by, when she cried over the people she had lost; it was in Grimmjow's arms she sought comfort. Some nights, he would hold her for hours on end, occasionally stroking her hair gently or rubbing her back reassuringly.

She began to look forward to his visits and not a night went by where she was disappointed. Although she still didn't know what had brought of the change, Orihime found she didn't care.

It was one night when Orihime was thinking about how she felt about the blue-haired Espada, the first time she'd genuinely tried to break down how he affected her, that she realised he'd wormed his way into her heart. Had Grimmjow taken the place in her heart that a certain Shinigami had filled for so long?

Did she love him?

-o-o-o-

He didn't care about the odd glances he received over his more 'chivalrous' attitude around the girl, all Grimmjow cared about was the fact he was winning this. Any day now, he'd be able to tell Ulquiorra he'd won. Every time he'd had to be so bloodcurdlingly gentlemanly would be worth it at the end of the day. Within the week, Grimmjow would have conquered the remaining conquest.

-o-o-o-

Orihime lay on her sofa, stomach grumbling unhappily, wondering why her dinner was late. Frowning slightly, Orihime crossed and uncrossed her legs while twiddling her thumbs. She didn't like being hungry.

Just as she was about to investigate the whereabouts of her dinner – and the one who normally brought it now – Grimmjow shoved the door open, carrying the food himself this time, of which there was a lot more than normal.

Following Orihime's inquisitive stare, Grimmjow explained with a shrug, "I missed dinner so I'm eatin' with you tonight. Sorry for the holdup though."

Orihime dragged the table over to the sofa so they could both sit to eat, and they ate in comfortable silence. Orihime felt his azure eyes on her as she finished her plate and looked up to his cocky grin. She tilted her head in confusion but was surprised when Grimmjow wiped away the smidge of sauce on her cheek she hadn't noticed with his finger. Orihime giggled in embarrassment while Grimmjow stood to clear the plates away.

As he made his way to leave, Orihime's eye followed him sadly. She finally gained the courage to whisper softly before he reached the door. "Wait, Grimmjow, could you stay with me tonight?"

Grimmjow's smirk was hidden from her gaze and when he turned around she could only see his cheeky smile. "Who said I wasn't comin' back?"

Orihime waited patiently for Grimmjow to return and wasn't disappointed when five minutes later he was back. He sat on the sofa beside her again, listened to her ramble on like there was no tomorrow, laughed at her when she tripped over her words and rolled his eyes when she said the stupidest of things; just like always.

When Orihime involuntarily shivered, abruptly cold, he pulled her close to his chest without warning, grinning when she instinctively snuggled into his embrace. She turned her head into his shoulder and sighed contentedly as Grimmjow pulled her legs over him so she was sitting over him, feet at the end of the sofa.

He lifted her chin to look straight into her silver eyes but when he did nothing more, Orihime leaned forward and gave him her first kiss. Grimmjow kissed her back keenly but Orihime still wanted more. She rearranged her legs so that she was straddling him and began tugging his jacket off his shoulders.

He held her tightly to his now bare chest before peeling away her own uniform, revealing her delicious body to his appreciative eyes. Orihime didn't shy away from his hungry gaze but instead immediately traced every definition of his muscled abdomen with inquisitive fingers. Grimmjow's own hands followed every curve of her figure and as they both learnt each other's forms, the pile of clothes built up.

She kissed him passionately, full of desire while dragging his body above her, desperate to feel more of him. All the time Orihime believed that he was making love to her, Grimmjow saw and conquered.

-o-o-o-

**A/N: This one's turned out longer than planned. It's only about halfway through so I figured I'd cut it and here felt like a good place to do so. Sorry to leave you guys hanging there but there will be a conclusion [also rated T though :P] but I'm not sure when I'll post it. Hope you're enjoying this collection though. The sequel probably won't be the next instalment and will be called Part B of this one ... because I can't think of a better name.**


	6. Good Cats Always Get Treats

Title: Good Cats Always Get Treats

Summary: Grimmjow's pretty tired and Orihime doesn't help. This was the first one I wrote for this collection, so if it's lacking something, that's why. Note: this is **not** the sequel to the one before this lol.

Word Count: 2203

Warnings: Sexual themes and language. (Have you ever tried to make Grimmjow 'polite' ... no, didn't think so.)

Genre: Romance, Humour

Rating: NC - 17

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.

His absence would have pleased the old Orihime; the prospect of going a whole night without being 'horribly' ravaged and taken. The old Orihime wouldn't have missed his harsh kisses and would have relished in a good night's sleep. Before, Orihime would call this night of freedom a blessing as she was saved from at least one night of coarse words by his tongue and sinful pleasures by the same tongue. But now, Orihime wondered why her lover hadn't joined her yet.

She suddenly questioned when exactly she had begun to expect for each visit, and almost counted down the hours in her head until she might have his company again. Surely he wasn't that far imbedded in her head? Evidently he was, if her hopes of his return were anything to go by.

Sighing, she fell backwards onto her plush bed, sinking into the cream silk covers. Orihime tried to push all emotional thoughts of the hot-headed Sexta Espada away from her mind, but seeing as she repeatedly tried to identify the aura of each approaching footsteps outside of her door, the girl knew her attempts were futile.

She gave up. Orihime let her head fall to her pillow and allowed her thoughts free reign over her absent lover, thoughts full of a caring attitude and gentle touches. Well, a girl can dream.

Grimmjow's actions were even less caring and gentle than normal, as he stormed in the direction of the girl's room. He didn't understand why he was even bothering tonight, he wasn't particularly frustrated, and if anything, he was just tired.

Exhausted if he felt like being honest, but he didn't.

He'd had pointless 'mission' after pointless 'mission' appointed him as he'd had 'nothing better to do' – _note to self: never look bored again_. Tch, they couldn't keep him from her forever.

Once again he asked himself why he wasn't just going to his own room, and a part of his mind immediately offered that he always slept better there. _What the fuck? Che, probably only sleep better there 'cause I really do tire myself out before hand_.

She heard the door being practically thrown off its hinges and slammed shut. When Orihime didn't feel herself immediately pinned by his strong limbs, she raised her head questioningly.

He looked tired, if not worse. His piercing blue gaze was topped by heavy lids and she could see his jaw tense as he forced himself to keep his trademark scowl fixed. He'd fooled most others that nothing was out of the ordinary, but she could still note the small things that gave away his exhaustion.

Grimmjow made his way to the edge of her bed while ignoring the girl's enquiring stare. Eventually, he gave up on trying to keep-face and let himself slump next to Orihime's body before closing his eyes.

Not for long though. He heard her inhale a sharp breath, one that forecasted her pointless jabber. Snarling threateningly, he warned her while shifting her smaller form to rest on his larger one. "Just shut the hell up, woman, and let me fuckin' sleep."

Suddenly quiet, Orihime could feel his breathing slow until she was certain he was lost to this world for a while. She turned her face upwards towards his before she placed her left hand on his abdomen as she let the side of her face return to his shoulder.

Smiling, Orihime realised that this was the first time she'd fallen asleep touching him. During the few times he was too lazy to return to his own room or when he thought he might wake up in the night with a 'problem', she'd known far better than to get too close to his slumbering form. Now at his most vulnerable state, his face revealed exactly how relaxed he was in her presence; softened brows and lips that hinted at a handsome smile, not a violent one.

Orihime tilted her face up to place a tender kiss to his cheek as she removed a few strands of his unruly azure hair from his closed eyes. She proceeded to tuck others behind his left ear but stilled when she felt subtle vibrations pass through his chest and throat. Orihime immediately pulled her hand back and Grimmjow was silent once more. Confused, she tentatively replaced her hand to where it was when he responded so surprisingly, and as her fingertips lightly traced the shell of his ear, Orihime was greeted with more vibrations.

_He's purring_, she realised and now that she thought about it, purring was to be expected (upon occasion of course) from one such as Grimmjow. Smiling, Orihime placed her thumb behind his ear and used her forefinger to rub the tip of his ear gently between her digits and to her pleasure, Grimmjow's purrs increased in volume. She didn't notice when his eyelids twitched and eventually revealed a distant blue gaze.

At first, Grimmjow didn't really know what was going on around him but was completely distracted by the passing through his brain. After a quick mental check he knew it had nothing to do with his crotch but it was only when he opened his eyes that he saw that dumb happy look on Orihime's cute face. Establishing that the root of his happiness centred near the side of his head, he lent into it slightly but frowned when he saw Orihime's face light up. Now, one hundred per cent back on this plain, Grimmjow realised that the girl on his chest was stroking his ear like he was her favourite pet.

Orihime had practically forgotten that it was Grimmjow she was finding so adorable and was utterly surprised when he lurched forward, her wrist held in his iron-grip.

"What the fuck d'ya think you're doin'?" Grimmjow snarled at the startled girl now in his lap, trying to hide the fact that being her favourite pet had felt exquisite.

"Umm, well when you were asleep," Orihime began, her feeble voice barely a whisper.

"Can't hear ya, girl!" He barked at her.

"You were asleep and I accidently nudged your ear and you seemed to like it so I did it again and it sounded like you liked that too, and umm, and then you woke up." Orihime started more confident than she finished and Grimmjow only just picked up her mumbled last words.

Well he didn't really know what to say to that; he HAD liked it, in fact that was an understatement. He chose to just stare down out her until she was forced to turn away from his intent glare. He scoffed at her unease before lying back down and was completely unconscious a second later.

Orihime rolled her eyes at her bed partner and lent forward to kiss his cheek. Maybe she had a death wish or was a glutton for punishment, but Orihime found herself dragging her tongue lightly up his cheek to his right ear. She knew she was poking a sleeping cat in the eye but the urge overwhelmed her and the next thing she knew, Orihime was slowly outlining Grimmjow's ear with her tongue.

In response to her affectionate lick, Grimmjow once again purred subconsciously. His low purr turned in to a pleasured growl when he felt her suck and nibble gently on the tip of his ear. She suddenly found herself becoming aroused that she could make him act as such by just caressing his ear.

Orihime knew he was awake when she felt herself being jerked back by her shoulder. She equalled his hard gaze and was unfazed when he snapped at her this time.

"Don't ya ever fuckin' learn?" Grimmjow hoped that she hadn't heard his growl of pleasure when he woke.

Orihime blinked slowly in reply before sighing audibly. "Just shut up for once," she murmured before placing her lips on his in a needy kiss. She lifted her hand up to his ear again, but this time he didn't stop her as he felt her other hand fall down his chest to his apparent arousal. Grimmjow growled once more as he felt her grip him through his hakamas, and the feeling increased tenfold as Orihime caressed his ear again.

When her hand slipped inside his hakamas and left teasing feather-light touches up his cock, Grimmjow felt his eyes drop as he hissed with desire. Orihime nibbled his bottom lip softly whilst holding him firmly and rubbing his moist head with her thumb. Pleased with his responsive groans, she returned her mouth to the sensitive tip of his ear as she moved her hand slowly up and down his shaft.

"Fuckin' hell," He hissed in pleasure.

He could feel her smile against his ear before she asked coyly, "What was that, huh?"

"Nothin'," Grimmjow bit back only to be answered with a harsher nibble to his ear and sudden tighter squeeze to his throbbing cock. "Shit," he growled, louder than his last outburst.

"And I'm guessing that was also nothing," Orihime whispered mockingly as she continued to pump his hard member in her hand.

Without realising, he began to meet her hand's movements with his hips, revelling in the feelings but needing more.

"Faster," Grimmjow ordered harshly.

"Sorry, I didn't quite get that one either," Orihime spoke teasingly into his ear before biting a little harder on the tip.

"Ahhh, you fuckin' heard me," he tried to control the moan as much as possible but couldn't contain the frustrated groan when he felt her hand slow on his dick.

"You little bitch," Grimmjow snarled in response but was only rewarded with a harsh bite to his ear.

"You're going to have to be nicer than that," Orihime purred as she brought her lips to his again. He pulled away from her kiss only to bark at her, "I don't do nice; I don't ask, I just get."

Moving her head, Orihime began licking the side of his neck while ceasing her hold on his evident need altogether. She was satisfied when she only just heard him moan disappointedly.

"I don't think so, not tonight Grimmjow," Orihime stated firmly. She continued, "If you want something, you're going to have to ask, and even then you might not get it."

Grimmjow stared straight through her confident eyes mockingly but felt his own clamp shut when he felt her hand tingle around his cock before simply tracing a finger up and down the underside of his arousal.

"Well?" Orihime grew impatient and resumed sucking and licking up the side of his throat before she lightly nibbled on his earlobe. She wrapped her hand around his shaft for a second time and waited for his response.

"Fuck," he hissed, almost too quiet for Orihime to catch. Frustrated, he jerked his hips up into her hand and was momentarily pleased with the blissful friction. When she started moving her hand, however, she was so teasingly slow it felt more aggravating than before.

"Faster," He ordered again, only to be answered with even slower movements. Feeling his desperation take control of his mind, Grimmjow couldn't help but bite out, "Please."

Orihime honestly hadn't expected him to give in at all, she was well aware that she was pushing her luck, but hearing his need in his voice – his need for her – made her want to please him as much as possible.

She slowly built up the pace of her hand's movements up and down his member and he didn't hold his growls back; he clenched and unclenched his fists constantly while his goddess of a woman pleasured him, shaft in one hand and her other caressing the back of his neck. Grimmjow's purrs intermingled within his growls of desire when he felt Orihime lick up the shell of his ear before gently taking the top of it in between her moist lips.

She sucked and nibbled on his ear affectionately while pumping his cock forcefully enough to cause him to curse and growl repeatedly until she eventually bit down harsher than he expected and he came in her hand, cursing her name under his breath.

After several minutes, Grimmjow's breath was only just starting to steady and even after Orihime had cleaned them both up, his breathing was still erratic. Despite how exhausted he looked, his head certainly wasn't and he was mentally repeating how he'd asked, no: BEGGED, for her touch; how she'd forced him into wanting anything she could give him.

She crawled up his drained form and kissed his parted lips softly. As he returned her kiss, his eyes fell closed and he visibly relaxed; until he heard her take another sharp intake of air – the same inhaling that foreshadowed a question – and interrupted her before she could start. "Don't say anythin', just keep fuckin' quite an' let me sleep."

Orihime sighed at his predictability but let it go as she once again rested her head against his shoulder. Grimmjow felt her fingertips once again lightly caress his ear but didn't stop her. He would purr as much as she wanted him to, as long as she kept her mouth shut and didn't under any circumstances bring up the fact that he'd asked, no: BEGGED, for something.


	7. Play With a Cat, Bare the Scratches

Title: If You Play With a Cat, Bare the Scratches.

Summary: Ulquiorra notices Orihime was covered in them, no matter how hard she tried to hide them. Who's doing this to her?

Word Count: 1548

Warnings: Surprisingly enough, not language this time (Grimmjow doesn't actually talk in this one) but there are implied sexual themes.

Genre: Humour, Romance

Rating: T+

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.

He'd started to notice them for the last two days now: faint red creeping out under her collar, barely noticeable to anyone. At first Ulquiorra had assumed her skin was irritated by the tight fabric of her uniform, but then he saw that the cloth was loose enough to be comfortable. Perhaps Aizen's plan to psychologically break this girl had worked more efficiently than predicted and maybe this was Orihime's pathetic attempt for attention or to vent her misery. But no, despite the little time the fourth Espada had spent with the girl in question, he knew she was far too determined to self-harm.

"_Then who's doing this to her?_"

Orihime's presence was required at the next meeting Aizen called; he wanted to watch her expression as he announced the information known about her friends. Ulquiorra's emerald eyes never left the hideous imperfections on her neck, and the girl visibly squirmed under Ulquiorra's intense gaze, and anyone else's who watched her reactions to Aizen's news.

oOoOo

The next morning, Ulquiorra surprised Orihime as she was just fastening the bodice of her uniform when he brought in her breakfast tray. Although she whipped around immediately from his vision, the girl could not prevent jade eyes from seeing the true extent to the blemishes.

If Ulquiorra had thought the mere millimetres he could see on the column of her throat were horrific, he found the new evidence utterly disgusting; what he briefly saw of her full cleavage was marred by the crimson marks. Ulquiorra waited patiently as Orihime quickly recomposed herself all the while itching to demand the truth from her.

"Thank you, Ulquiorra, I'll be done with it soon," Ulquiorra heard the girl murmur to him, but her voice did not interrupt his thoughts. Despite not giving any signals to having listened to Orihime, Ulquiorra suddenly exited her room silently.

oOoOo

Ulquiorra attempted to ignore the redness marring the girl's complexion, seeing that she continued to eat and was, as far as he could tell, otherwise healthy. Regardless of this, however, after three days, he had discovered a pattern: when he entered her room in the evening to remove her dinner tray, he often caught her mid-dress as she changed into her sleepwear and Ulquiorra believed her condition to be no different to the state of it that morning; although the morning later would be a completely different thing.

From this, Ulquiorra established that whoever did this to Orihime did so at night. This hardly surprised him but what did was the amount of time at night he spent hovering near her door, waiting in case anyone went in or if she left. In fact, his growing concern disturbed him.

"_This girl is not my responsibility. As long as she lives, I should care no more._" The way his thoughts had offered the word 'care' in relation to the girl disturbed him even more.

oOoOo

Ulquiorra had desperately tried to ignore the blemishes on the girl's skin for the past week, always waiting slightly longer before he entered her room, knocking more often than not. He found that as long as he didn't see the extent of the damage, he remained unconcerned.

His attitude completely disintegrated the morning he walked into her room to find that she had erected her healing sphere over her right breast and shoulder. Although he could not see the degree of the harm, to think that she felt the need to fix it using her Shun Shun Rika alarmed him.

"Who's doing this to you?" Ulquiorra demanded quietly, but not at all gently.

Orihime was stunned at his intrusion; having been too busy to notice his entrance and only looked over her shoulder to his emotionless face that contrasted the anger in his tone. Once she had finished healing herself and her fairies had disappeared, Orihime covered her body before turning to face to Ulquiorra.

"I don't know what you mean," Orihime replied confidently. Ulquiorra was immediately right in front of her, his sudden proximity startling the girl. Orihime whimpered when she felt his cold hand clasp around her throat but quieted when he just tugged the collar of her uniform down, exposing the flaws on her neck she didn't feel the need to heal.

"Who's doing this to you?" He simply repeated.

oOoOo **Flashbacks **oOoOo

Orihime moaned into his needy kiss as she felt him press himself against her body, her hands already in his hair, nails scraping at his scalp. She felt his teeth nip lightly at her lip before he completely dominated her mouth with his warm tongue. Just as Orihime began to remember that she may need to breathe soon, he abandoned her mouth in search of something better. She felt his greedy tongue and teeth lick and bite their way down her neck, paying particular attention to her pulse point, before sucking sharply directly above her fast pumping blood, his teeth unintentionally leaving their mark.

oOoOo

Orihime was torn from her sleep by his hand snaking its way along her side, brushing softly past her ticklish points on her waist and then on her stomach. The familiar limb continued to rise until it was teasing the underside of her pale breasts, then proceeded to circle the full mounds, deliberately ignoring her darkened nipples.

She groaned softly in frustration and her wordless plea was answered when she felt his wonderful tongue lick the path from her shoulder to her collar bone, where his mouth remained to lap and suck on her newfound pleasure points above the frail bone. Orihime moaned and thrashed beneath his sensuous ministrations which only intensified when she felt his fingers scratching the same skin before his tongue did more than sooth the sensitive flesh.

oOoOo

Orihime's face was damp with sweat and her fiery hair clung to her forehead, but he still made her feel like the sexiest woman who ever walked. Her slow body sensed his crawling up her moist form and the feeling of his tantalising tongue swirling over the pert nipple of her left breast destroyed any hope of her forming a coherent thought, particularly after _that_. The same tongue that had only a few seconds ago been enjoying bringing her to nirvana over and over again between her legs now dragged slowly over the sensitive pebble of her right breast while his hand pleasured the other.

Orihime's hand instinctively tangled themselves in his hair, forcing him to stay exactly where he was. When she dug her nails into his head she felt his teeth sink into her flesh, but her head was far too high in the clouds to feel anything besides pleasure. In response to her enthusiastic reply to his rougher treatment, he continued to bite her skin closer to her darkened peak. This call-and-response ritual was not over quickly as she responded with throaty and relentless whines and moans while he called them forward along with her blood.

oOoOo

This time when he licked along her neck and sucked against her tingling skin, Orihime mirrored his actions upon his own neck. She felt more worshipped than ever before and as he held her close to his body, her legs wrapped around his waist as she sat in his lap, and she chose to take advantage of her position. Orihime smiled as his head tilted back to rest against the headboard of her bed behind him in response to her tongue licking a slow line along his throat. Her smile grew even wider when she felt his hands grip her body tighter to him when she sucked and nipped his sensitive skin.

oOoOo **End Flashbacks** oOoOo

Ulquiorra had not been satisfied at all by her response, but the way she had said it meant he could not counteract her assumption. Now he could never ask again and his pride refused to allow him to wander the halls at night. Internally sighing, Ulquiorra resolved that he would never find an answer to the mystery.

Her reply still narked him though.

_Orihime lowered her head under his intent glare, one that searched for an answer just through her hidden eyes. When she raised her head again, her bright smile practically blinded him._

"_I'm completely fine, Ulquiorra. There's absolutely nothing for you to be concerned over. So don't worry about me." The honesty in her voice escaped Ulquiorra as he glared at the woman who dared to imply that he cared enough to worry about her. He left instantly, so quickly that Orihime could almost see the outline of where his body had been even after his departure._

Of course, her stupid accusation meant that the discussion was now permanently over, unless he wanted her words to speak truth.

Not having paid much attention to where he was heading, Ulquiorra found himself wandering dangerously close to the girl's door. He was just about to turn around before he witnessed something he had to blink twice at to make sure it was real: another Espada had just left Orihime's room. But that wasn't what shocked Ulquiorra: the other's neck and shoulders were littered with similar red blotchy imperfections that marred Orihime's skin.

Ulquiorra blinked again and immediately tried to forget that Grimmjow had just walked out of Orihime's room, looking as though he owned the bloody place, covered in lovebites.


	8. Look What the Cat Dragged In

Title: Look What the Cat Dragged In

Summary: This is a sequel to 'Raining Cats and Dogs'. After Grimmjow brought her back to Las Noches, Orihime can't take it.

Word Count: 2597

Warnings: Nothing major, just Kitty's constant charm [=

Genre: Angst / Romance

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.

They were expecting to hear her screams and his curses in reply to her kicks, but retriever and captive arrived quietly. In fact, the only reason why the other Espadas knew Grimmjow had returned with Orihime was that they could pick out her weak but distinctive reiatsu along with his.

"Che, feels like Grimmjow broke Pet-Sama a bit, ne?" Nnoitra laughed with fake concern.

"Does that really surprise you, Cinco?" Came the stoic reply from Ulquiorra.

Before Aizen could tell them both to be quiet, the doors swung open to reveal the tall Espada and the diminutive girl behind him. Despite the Sexta's dangerously pleased expression, it wasn't her captor that Orihime appeared to fear. If anything, it seemed that only when she entered the hall that worry became her most prominent emotion.

To escape and be brought back to her cell; her fear was rightly placed. The human had managed to avoid the Lord's chocolate eyes for so long, but his question demanded her attention.

"Did you have a safe journey home?" Aizen wasn't referring to her escape; no, Las Noches was her home. Orihime knew that now.

"Yes," Aizen cleared his throat so Orihime continued quickly, louder, "Yes, Aizen-Sama."

"Good, now scurry off back to your room, and I don't want to hear a peep out of you," How paternal. His words, with the slightest hint of his extreme soul pressure, were enough to chill the human girl to the bone. "And Grimmjow, see that she gets there," Aizen's order left no room for discussion.

With a curt nod to his _Lord_, Grimmjow tailed Orihime closely.

He was so near; Orihime could practically feel him breathing down her neck. On their brief return earlier that day, Orihime had not answered one of his questions, nor reacted to any of his (many) insults; however, she knew she couldn't avoid him for eternity.

"Well, shit then! If I'd known I was bringin' back such a fuckin' depression, I'd rather have come back empty handed, Aizen be damned. Ulquiorra's bad enough, we don't need another one." Grimmjow suddenly yelled at her back.

The girl momentarily paused, signifying she had heard him, but did nothing more than continue her sombre walk along the white hallway. When she reached the door, the heavy iron key was in the lock, waiting for its prisoner. Orihime didn't touch it, knowing that it wouldn't even shift for any being other than a hollow.

Inoue acknowledged his presence by stepping aside to allow him to unlock the entrance but she refused to raise her head as she returned to her cell.

"Che, g'night then, Princess," Orihime flinched at the taunt, but her reaction remained unknown to her tormentor as her back faced the door, even after it was slammed shut. She approached the hauntingly familiar white bed tentatively; afraid of the minute that everything would sink in, when she would have to face reality.

The sheets were fine satin, just as before, and were comparatively softer than her own in Karakura town; despite this, they were coarse to the touch and the silk pillows and bed spread felt rough under her fingers.

Orihime had barely had a chance to see her home town before she was snatched away. The taste of freedom had just reached her before it was once again stolen from her. She was well aware of what would happen if she fled again, or if she was rescued: Aizen wanted her here, so here she would stay.

Resignedly, Orihime unfixed the zipper on her uniform and pulled the skin-tight material away from her skin, leaving her form clad only in the white underwear she had picked out after...

Giving in to exhaustion, Orihime let her body crumple onto the bed, the material all but waiting to engulf her, swallow her into a world beyond return. No matter what she would do, Orihime knew that she would never be able to escape the thoughts of the past.

Not too-distant memories fluttered behind her closed eyelids, reminding her of his actions; his actions and her aches for more. She wished she could reject it from her brain, cast the thoughts out, but they were trapped to her existence now.

* * * *

He re-entered the meeting hall, key in his pocket, and dropped the key on the table before Ulquiorra. The Cuatra moved to take the key but his Lord's hand stopped him.

"No, I don't think so, Ulquiorra. You are relieved of your duties concerning our guest." Aizen slid the keys away from Ulquiorra and gave them back to Grimmjow. "Try to keep her alive, would you Grimmjow?"

The matter was discussed no more, instead Ulquiorra pondered over the motives of his master's decision. Who was he intending to punish? Himself, for allowing his captive to escape under his nose? Or the Espada opposite him with having to put up with her? Either way, being rid of the girl would be a relief.

However, Grimmjow wasn't too bothered about the turn of events: if this was intended as some form of punishment, well, he was getting off easy; if not, then he was sure he would find _some_ form of silver lining.

* * * *

_Where did it all go wrong?_ She had known for a while she was attracted to him ... in fact many of her **enemies** were somewhat appealing, but it was all in her head. She should have resisted, even if it was futile, she could have tried. But instead, she'd practically begged for more.

Orihime had not crawled out of bed since she had fallen into it; days could have passed, who knew? She was surprised Ulquiorra hadn't stormed in and forced her to eat; _where was he, anyway?_

As if the fates decided to answer her question, she heard voices outside of her room.

"She's been a fuckin' sleep the whole time, not much ta really do if ya ask me," That was Grimmjow. _So, he'd been in and out, had he?_

"Did it not cross your mind that she may still need to eat? She's human and not eating for four days does not imply she is being taken care of." And that was Ulquiorra's flat ridicule.

"What do you care, Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow snapped, seething at the former's sarcasm.

"Because if you don't do a good job of this, then I'm back on duty, aren't I?" Orihime heard the fourth's response followed by his retreating footfalls.

"Ah! Fuck this," The girl's door was kicked in and Grimmjow didn't stop as he made his way to where Orihime lay.

"Get up," He ordered angrily, shoving her shoulder harshly.

"M'awake," The pillow muffled her reply.

"I didn't fuckin' ask if ya were awake, girl." Grimmjow grew tired of his new charge and grabbed hold of her shoulder and tugged her out of bed. "Get dressed," The Espada demanded, not bothering to avert his gaze from her less-than-dressed form. When she made no move, however, he bent forward to her eye level. "Either get dressed or I'll drag ya out exactly as ya are."

Orihime nodded slightly to his warning, but moved too slow for him.

"That's it," Grimmjow picked the girl up by the waist and plunked her on his shoulder, unconcerned if anyone should see.

She should have been embarrassed, her butt presented for the world to see and the angle created when she lifted her head gave anyone behind them an optimum view of her cleavage, but she didn't have the dignity to begin with. Orihime resigned herself to staring at the white marble on the floor, moving incredibly fast beneath her due to Grimmjow's impatient steps.

Inoue felt the force of gravity shift around her as she was placed upright, bare feet cold on the floor. Looking around, she concluded that Grimmjow had brought her to the kitchen; she didn't have long to study her surroundings as Grimmjow forcefully pushed her backwards and her legs hit the front of a barstool which she was forced to sit on.

Grimmjow poked around the cupboards, looking for anything instant – he'd be damned if he _cooked_ her anything – while the girl remained motionless at the breakfast bar. Finding instant noodles, he waited for the kettle to boil and not a minute had passed before the steaming bowl of carbohydrates was placed under Orihime's nose.

She picked up the fork under his intent glare and slowly began eating. In any other situation, she would have wolfed the meal down, especially after not eating for so long –_had it really been four days?_– but today she could barely swallow one mouthful within five minutes.

Grimmjow pulled up a chair and settled on just watching her. Apparently, she was cold, _'wonder why'_, but the girl's shivering didn't seem to bother said girl. Being unfortunately far too perceptive, Grimmjow figured she just didn't have enough care left to worry over her body's climate, hell she'd been in bed for the last four days and would probably be happy to go back soon.

Groaning in annoyance, Grimmjow stood rapidly and shrugged off his jacket before placing it on her shoulders. The aggravating pang in the back of his head put at ease temporarily, as what was left of his conscience would not stop bugging him over the fact that he was, _maybe_, the cause for her lack of attire.

Her eyes shot open under the feeling of the sudden warmth of his jacket; Orihime hadn't even realised she was freezing until she felt the heat of the article of clothing on her back. She continued eating the cooling noodles, all too aware that if his jacket was on her, it wasn't on him. How would she react? She had been unable to resist before ... would she disgrace herself so again?

He resumed his seated position, knowing very well that her sudden discomfort was a result of his current situation, and rather pleased by the fact. He eyed her constantly while she finished her stone-cold noodles and watched with slight interest when she sat still for endless minutes.

The girl refused to look at him, not just to avoid his hard stare and appearance, but because part of her wished he wasn't there. His presence denied her escape from the facts.

Seeing her going nowhere fast, Grimmjow grabbed hold of her waist again but instead of hurling her over his shoulder, he tossed her in his hold so that he carried her bridal style; she was forced to look at him. The Espada sensed her struggle to distance her body from his – unlikely – but some part of her craved to be closer.

By the time the Arrancar had arrived at the girl's quarters, Orihime had already slackened in his hold, sleep nearly taking her. In contrast to his surprisingly smooth return, Grimmjow dropped the human callously onto her bed, tearing Inoue wide awake before she watched the Espada briskly exit her room.

* * * *

So her body wanted him but her mind didn't, eh? That didn't stop him the last time and it sure as hell wouldn't stop him again.

He left her to rest; well, mainly to let the girl torture herself for having the damned emotions, to let her deem herself a traitor; or maybe to allow her to fall into a false sense of security. Either way, within the same twelve hours, Grimmjow was retracing his steps back to her cell.

Although he took joy in causing pain, not being the one to hurt Orihime this time was more amusing; seeing the human condemn herself for choices _she_ made was interesting; watching her slowly break herself held his attention better than if he was the one destroying her sanity.

That and she was too vulnerable: it's no fun kicking the shit out of the weak.

Grimmjow shocked the girl comically when he booted the door down; she sat upright in bed, very much resembling a deer caught in the headlights. Evidently she'd lacked the inclination to bother with getting dressed or even under the sheets; well that just made things easier.

Fear. That was good; she'd lacked so much emotion earlier that day. Fear was good.

The Arrancar approached the bed, magnifying the deliciously fretful girl's shaking, and barely a second had passed before a rough hand clenched around a pale ankle. Grimmjow's strong grip tugged her to the foot of the bed where she sat before him, once empty eyes now overflowing with apprehension.

Muscled legs pushed her frail ones apart as he stood in-between. The Espada easily leaned the girl backwards as he knelt on the bedspread between her legs, rough hands ghosting over her porcelain skin. Despite her obvious trepidation, Orihime did not put up a fight when he shredded her only bra, or when he marked her fragile flesh with his teeth.

Slightly disappointed with her lack of struggle, Grimmjow realised she wasn't letting him do this because she particularly wanted him to continue, or because the girl knew she couldn't fight him off. Grimmjow suddenly understood that she deemed herself worthless; why save what's already ruined?

That was better than a cold shower.

The now obviously seething Hollow stood abruptly, throwing the bewildered prisoner a look of utter disgust.

"Pull your fuckin' self together, woman!" Grimmjow snarled at Orihime who was now seeking the poor shield from his aggravated stare that the white covers provided.

He meant to hit her, but when his raised hand only received a resigned expression that didn't even bother bracing itself, it ceased just before his fist connected. She didn't even flinch. Instead, his fingers found their way to her chin, uncharacteristically gently lifting her face to meet his eyes.

Hope. He didn't see where that one came from, but it was stronger than the fear; the Sixth liked that. It seemed to Grimmjow that his actions forgot to ask his brain for directions; before he could stop himself, his lips were softly caressing Orihime's.

Apparently it was easier to stop his unfathomably forceful blows than to prevent the slight inclination needed to kiss her. Inoue's responses were subtle, she leant towards him a little and her lips began to move in sync against his. When Grimmjow pulled away, for the briefest of moments he saw that beautiful smile, one he didn't realise he longed for.

It was gone before he could appreciate it; her entire form once again visibly lost its fire. The Arrancar watched as her eyes dropped and her shoulders slumped a little; he didn't like it, he needed her to feel something.

So maybe Orihime wasn't healed yet, that was probably far off in the future, maybe she never would heal; but Grimmjow decided he wanted her to get there. He'd like to say it was because he'd rather not hold himself back for so long, or that her empty mug just annoyed the shit out of him.

That's what he told her when he shrugged off his jacket again and wrapped it around her naked top-half before he pulled her body closer to his while he settled next to her. Her face worried slightly at that.

When he told her that there was no way she was sleeping the day away tomorrow, she looked minutely embarrassed.

And when he kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer to his body, he felt the small rays of hope that however briefly surrounded Orihime.


	9. Cat Fight

Title: Catfight

Summary: Someone's feeling playful. Pretty much, I gave a bit of plot to a PWP idea I had.

Word Count: 4080

Warnings: Cussing and sexy time.

Genre: Romance / Humour

Rating: M – this was originally a PWP so it's not going to be anything less.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.

The cell's en suite bathroom was filled with water vapour, the spring fragrance of fresh rain and the room's occupant's soft hum. That morning, Orihime had been allowed to sleep in – no meeting then it seemed – and when she finally dragged herself out of her cosy bed, the girl jumped straight into a hot bath. That was two hours ago. Several refills of hot water later, a rather shrivelled Orihime fought off the desire to sleep.

Although she was well and truly clean now, and had been for the majority of the time, Inoue could not bring herself to get out of the bath. She hadn't heard Ulquiorra enter with her breakfast so obviously he was in no rush for her to do anything. Orihime took that as permission to have a very lazy day.

"Hmmm," She sighed contentedly; it must have been the twentieth happy sigh in five minutes alone. Just as heavy lids dropped over her eyes, she felt the approach of an Espada's strong reiatsu. _Ulquiorra?_ Probably. She heard the door open but when there was no following demand for her, she presumed he had left her breakfast for when she was ready – he'd done that before; just because she had all day to do nothing did not mean he did too.

Not wanting her food to get cold (mmmm yesterday's was eggs and she was even allowed to chose things to go with them. Ulquiorra didn't expect the honey though and was not amused by her title for the meal: Honey Side Up. Of course, she found it hilarious) Orihime finally pulled her body vertical and stepped out of the lustrous water. Once on stable land, she found her sense of balance and reached for the huge fluffy yellow towel; she found herself very tempted to stay in the towel all day as it had a beautiful ability to hold its heat twenty-four seven!

After drying her hair haphazardly and clipping the mass of auburn locks in a messy knot, the flushed human girl emerged from the bathroom but was confused to see her table empty from food. Her disappointment distracted her from looking around at first, but when she saw the figure sitting on her couch, she leapt back in her bathroom immediately.

He hadn't visited in a while, for which she was somewhat thankful for as well as disappointed. The man made her incredibly nervous but he had an amazing talent for distracting her from the harsh realities of her life. So Grimmjow's sudden appearance caught Orihime very off guard, especially as she was only clad in a towel.

Not wanting the impatient Arrancar to wait any longer, Inoue pulled on her clothes quickly and made her hair as presentable as possible in such a short supply of time. Re-entering her bedroom, Orihime tentatively approached the blue-eyed hollow.

She walked perpendicular to the side of the sofa, but the Espada's position leaning against the armrest meant he didn't see her approach. Of course, the brief inclination of his head notified the girl that he knew she was there.

His previous visits concerned healing his minor injuries from trivial brawls in or out of Las Noches. The Sexta Espada had not needed her assistance in a few weeks so Orihime assumed he had calmed somewhat. So what did he want now?

"Umm, hello Grimmjow." By now she stood behind the Arrancar, who simply lifted his head to look at her upside down. Orihime looked down, smiling at his reversed smirk. Even flipped, his non-violent grin still made her brain dizzy. "Can I help you with something?"

"Obviously, you idiot; I'm not here just to talk, am I?" Grimmjow stood, waiting for the girl to notice and react. The confusion plastered on her face had him wondering if she was a natural blonde, and when she still looked perplexed at his lack of explanation, he decided to spell it out.

"You can fuckin' heal these, woman," He gestured to his torso with his right hand and nearly laughed aloud as shock swept across her eyes.

"Wha ... wha ... wha..." She couldn't believe she'd missed them! From his neck line to the man's waist, there wasn't an inch of skin that wasn't bleeding or drenched in blood. In fact, she could see the faint hints of red bleeding through the fabric of his jacket. See what she meant about distraction?

He did laugh at her gobsmacked expression, but it – well it didn't _hurt_ – but it wasn't comfortable.

"Well quit your bloody gapin' and heal 'em," He ordered, startling her out of astonishment. Orihime instantaneously erected her Souten Kisshun; surprised she had to avert her gaze as she revealed more of his magnificently sculptured chest to keep from blushing. She looked up into strangely relaxed hypnotic pools of blue.

"Um, so who did you annoy this time?" Orihime asked quietly.

At first, Grimmjow laughed – effectively scaring the girl – before he glared down at her. Ironically, it was his aggravated expression than amused the human while his laugh had previously alarmed her.

"Well, you know what I mean. You always manage to upset _someone_," she continued giggling. The Espada's scowl flattened as he waited for Orihime to finish the job; Inoue let her question go, she really didn't want a bothered Grimmjow with her, especially once he was in top form.

She backed away slightly, admiring her work (well, partly at least), before she returned her eyes to his. Without his notice, her eyes widened at his softened expression with remnants of a smile in place; perfection.

"Ulquiorra," Grimmjow suddenly muttered. Seeing the woman's repeat wave of puzzlement, he clarified, "I 'annoyed' him, as you put it."

Once enlightenment had settled in, Orihime rolled her eyes in exasperation. Grimmjow sat on the couch, happy to stay in her company – provided she didn't yammer on all day.

"Oh, Grimmjow, what am I going to do with you, silly?" Smiling, Orihime patted his head patronisingly.

And she had called _him_ 'silly'.

The Arrancar glared menacingly at the girl who had such fuckin' nerve before he shoved her aside, grinning when she stumbled and caught herself on the low armrest.

"Hey!" Orihime stood defiantly while Grimmjow gave her a look that screamed, 'Well what did ya expect, bitch?'

The girl sat beside the man, facing him; if looks could kill, well, Grimmjow didn't think he'd be dead, but he'd be pretty uncomfortable. He turned away from her attempt at a glare, only to be mildly surprised when her fist connected with his shoulder. He raised a brow at the nudge, but he figured that had he been human (a weak one, but oh well) he'd have a dead arm so he gave her some mental credit for that.

Orihime visibly and audibly gulped at his toying grin, regretting pushing his buttons but her fears were hushed when the azure-haired man merely pushed her off the settee. So maybe she moved about four feet in front of the furniture piece but that was beside the point; he was just messing with her.

She didn't stand immediately; she just rearranged her legs so that she sat cross-legged. Her curious behaviour nearly distracted Grimmjow from the black boot that suddenly flew at him, but of course with his cat-like reflexes, the Arrancar caught it one handed.

"Umm, can I have my-"

Orihime was saved the one-shoed walk of shame to the sofa but still wasn't pleased when her shoe connected – painfully – with the back of her head when he pitched it back. By the time she stood, both feet safely booted, Grimmjow stood before her, grinning at her fuming expression. He leant forward, and Orihime shuffled on her feet as though under examination.

The girl's cheeks blushed a beautiful pink, which then turned crimson when he leaned in more, knowing she could feel his breath on her cheek. While smirking at the simple effects he had on the human, Grimmjow didn't register her raised hand. He did when he felt her nimble fingers flick his ear however.

The Espada instantly straightened, his comically twitching ear making Orihime giggle profusely. Blue eyes glued to her amused form; she missed his calculating expression.

"You're gonna be laughin' a lot more," Grimmjow warned. He paid no mind to her puzzled complexion before restricting both of her wrists in a one-handed firm hold, proceeding to brush at her sides carelessly with his free hand.

"Ah, Grimmjow!" Orihime broke into a fit of giggles; evidently her sides were extremely ticklish. "!" In response to her kicking legs, Grimmjow pinned her wriggling body to the floor, restraining her squirming legs beneath his muscled limbs.

Their position was the least of Inoue's worries; while gasping for air she was trying to fight off the approaching stitch in her side. When she tried to fold in on herself, he simply spread her out again, tickling her with more interest. If she could have begged, Orihime would have, but as it happened, she could barely breathe.

Not wanting his captive to fall unconscious, Grimmjow slowed his ministrations, and the girl visibly calmed. Not before long, Grimmjow was just lazily stroking her waist while Orihime claimed her breath.

"Umm, Grimmjow, could you move? My legs have gone to sleep." Orihime asked quietly, before clearing her sore throat. Without replying, the Espada shifted so that he just sat in between her legs instead of on them.

Although her body no longer fought for oxygen, Orihime's pounding heart refused to slow. Knowing that the man before her could most likely hear exactly how rapidly it was beating, Orihime's flush deepened.

But now it was her turn. She knew she wouldn't be able to catch him off guard again and it was obvious that trying to tickle the Espada as such wouldn't go down so well. Planning her next move was difficult, especially with the object studying her intently; eventually, however, she lit a light-bulb.

Grimmjow wondered what was going on it that crazy head of hers but remained silent. He could tell the girl was becoming frantic, and although he didn't originally intend to position her legs around him this way, he couldn't say he want her to budge; which explained his vaguely annoyed expression when he felt her move.

That was before he felt her shift her weight onto his lap; that he didn't mind, he didn't mind that at all. But he didn't think that the girl anticipated his physical appreciation of her action.

He kept his confusion in check and smiled deviously when he saw her eyes flash wide – so she'd noticed his predicament then. Seeing that it didn't discourage her, Grimmjow made to voice his speculation. He didn't get far.

"What the f–"

Orihime closed the distance between them and kissed his lips tentatively, effectively silencing him. She tried to conceal her inexperience and doubt but stopped worrying when his hands wrapped around her sides, causing her body to flutter for all different reasons than before.

This wasn't meant to happen! Orihime had banked on offending Grimmjow by crossing some invisible line but instead he was just making her lightheaded! Although she had successfully surprised the Arrancar by climbing into his lap, she wasn't going anywhere now.

If she thought that making moves on him was a good come back, then the girl was way off. Sure, had _he_ been the one to force himself on her, that'd be offensive; but evidently, Grimmjow appreciated her latest 'attack'.

It wasn't his problem if that's all she could do, but now it was Grimmjow's turn. He gripped her sides forcefully and kissed her with earnest, his probing tongue happily finding its way into her warm mouth. He pushed her waist down onto his growing appreciation, smirking when he felt her moan into his mouth.

Her inactive tongue bored him, but after receiving a playful nip to the wet muscle, Orihime's appendage joined in the fun. She pulled her body closer and ground against his hips, creating that wonderful friction again. Inoue was rewarded with his guttural moan before he abandoned her swelling lips to abuse her white neck to a glowing red shade.

Okay, so she should have been disgusted with herself for being so _intimate_ with such a man, but the only objections Orihime's mind offered were about her lack of reply to her opponent. Thinking was near impossible when feeling his talented tongue slide over her pulse point over and over again, let alone trying to think outside the box.

He nipped at her neck, presuming she was finally submitting to him; he found this oddly disappointing. The Arrancar would have thought he'd enjoy simply dominating the girl but Grimmjow discovered that he took pleasure in this teasing wrestle.

Pulling her flaming throat away from his attentions, Orihime ignored his frown as she tilted his head slightly to place chaste kisses along his cheek. She paid no heed to his frustrated growls; the girl just silenced them by progressing to his ear where she let her warm tongue lick a slow line down the shell.

Although the action was far too innocent for his liking, Grimmjow still had to fight the urge to just throw his head back in bliss when he felt her moist tongue glide down the side of his jaw to his own throat. The human didn't stop there however, Orihime shifted her weight backwards faintly to lean lower. Her hands made quick work of his jacket then followed every crevice of his built torso, leaving a fiery trail in their wake.

She merely nudged her hands against his shoulders, and he rearranged their bodies so he lay beneath her straddling form. Grimmjow sucked in a pleasured hiss when her dainty tongue ran over a nipple and released a breathy growl in response to her light bite. Orihime sat back up, positioning all her weight on his arousal and simply looked at the Espada _beneath_ her.

With his head out of the clouds, Grimmjow finally took notice of their arrangement, his instincts demanding why the hell he was under the bitch. The anger and confusion that swept across his expression clearly entertained Inoue; Grimmjow felt her shake above him, and although the motions felt good in his lap, her laughter just pissed him off.

So he shut her up. Before Orihime could draw breath, Grimmjow had her pinned; evidently he had rolled them over and now that Orihime thought about it, his hands still gripped her waist tightly. The girl was still denied air when the Arrancar claimed her mouth in a hungry kiss, grinding against her hips.

Grimmjow granted her oxygen before she turned blue, but only to remove the clothing hiding her chest. Orihime's mind fuzzed when his tongue returned to her neck, licking a gradually descending path while his hands climbed up her sides. One large hand left teasing brushes along the underside of a breast, distracting her fully before his rough tongue ran over a dusky tip.

Her startled gasp pleased him; Orihime could feel his smirk against her hardening peak. The gasp became a moan as his hand ceased to flutter around her breast and instead tweaked its nipple; when he pinched one and nibbled the other tip at the same time, Orihime could all but moan his name.

Just to make his point, Grimmjow raised his other hand and restrained both of the girl's wrists above her head, forcing her to arch into his touches. Grey eyes widened in anticipation when she felt an impatient hand drag down over her fluttering stomach, not at all hindered by her skirt. Eager fingers slipped beneath the waist band and teased sensitive skin through her moist panties; just as she felt him roughly shove the material aside, Orihime battled her desires and moved her body away from the miraculous sensations.

The Arrancar was satisfactorily thrown; frustrated, confused and _annoyed_ cerulean eyes followed the red head as she wriggled from underneath his body. When she stood and began to walk away, Grimmjow very nearly jumped her there and then – he was far too turned on to just leave, no way in hell was he sorting himself out after she'd got him so fuckin' excited.

But he stopped in his tracks when he watched the girl seductively flick her hips, the skirt slowly, oh so slowly, sliding down her legs. Still frozen, mesmerised, Grimmjow followed the pair of panties that followed the skirt; she bent way too much to step out of the clothes. Orihime obviously sensed his quick approach as she made her way to the foot of the bed and sat, a flirtatious smile concealing her uncertainty.

Okay, since when did he follow a girl to bed? Hell, he was the one to drag 'em to it, or if nothing else, take them right on the floor. He was all too ready to do just that, but this human had _led _him to her bed. She won that round fair and square. Shame there wasn't gonna be another turn.

He stripped, eyes locked on her coy expression, and approached; he could taste her insecurity in the air, but he wanted to taste something else. He nudged her knees apart and crawled in between them; he wasted no time before claiming her lips again, informing her of just how frustrated she made him.

"Fuckin' tease," Grimmjow hissed when she pulled away for air. He brought his hand down her stomach proceeding to tease her thighs gently before dragging a long finger along her core; she didn't pull away this time. He figured he'd prepare her well, let her get used to things; maybe take her a bit gentler to begin with; hey, she'd been pretty fun so far.

But he didn't get the opportunity. For a second time, Orihime took matters into her own hands and climbed onto his lap; it still surprised him. The girl gave him no time to change their position, or even to register what she was doing; Orihime tilted her head down, brushing her lips across his before taking his bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling slightly.

The desire growing in the pit of her stomach wouldn't subside, no 'mind-over-matter' could distract her from this _need_. Orihime moved her hips forward, his erection now pressed against her thigh; she blushed before she rocked against him.

Grimmjow took that as an invitation, one which he accepted. He forced her back down on the bed, his cock still firmly against her skin. He kissed her hard, biting on her lip this time while holding her hips motionless beneath him. He didn't leave her waiting.

Torturous, that's what it was; that's what her eyes said.

Even after the burn faded, the Arrancar above her moved at such an agonisingly slow pace, Orihime knew he did it just to aggravate her. His grip on her hips limited her input and Orihime knew Grimmjow had complete control on his speed. Inoue could only thank God that he was at least firm.

He entered her leisurely, progressing to the bundle of nerves that made her moan before making her whine by retreating just as gradually. Orihime's hands moved desperately over his back down to his sides while her legs tried to hold him closer to her. Her obvious intent for more changed nothing.

So Orihime stopped moaning; of course the sensations were still just as pleasurable but she fixed her face from frustrated to bored. That was bound to get some results. She relaxed her body as much as possible and attempted to control every reaction to his movements.

First, irritation washed over his expression, annoyed azure eyes frowned at the girl's apparent lack of enjoyment. However, the look of a man accepting a challenge swept across his features before long.

Orihime felt one hand leave her hip before it slid across her stomach to lay palm down on her lower stomach, nestled on the neat triangle of short auburn curls. His thumb brushed lower and lower, finding the pleasure point that surprised Orihime. With all her effort, the girl managed to merely close her eyes slowly when the rough pad of his thumb repeatedly stroked the cluster of nerves.

His other hand wound its way around Orihime's body to rest beneath the small of her back, tilting her hips up to change the angle; she bit the inside of her mouth to contain the moan that threatened to give her away. Grimmjow leaned the human's top-half up to him, allowing his tongue to sensuously slide over her neck and across her shoulder, pausing to pay extra attention to her pulse point.

Still dissatisfied with her lack of response, Grimmjow pulled her closer to his body, still not moving fast enough but unknowingly giving her the opening she desired. Orihime seized the opportunity and rested on his lap, her hands clasped around his neck; she allowed her devious smile to play on her lips, her moist tongue wetting them before she placed them on the corner of his mouth.

"My turn," was all she said, her breathy voice revealing the pent-up bliss from the Espada's earlier ministrations. Using his shoulders for leverage, Orihime pushed herself up and down on her thighs, now understanding why Grimmjow had tortured her so. She had anticipated taking what she needed so desperately as soon as she could, but making him suffer the frustration was suddenly so much more appealing.

In their current position, Orihime was able to tense her body around his length while slowly taking him in before freeing him again. The deeper penetration combined with her weight resulted in mind blowing pressure when she had lowered herself to the hilt while the ability to suspend herself teased him more than he could bear.

Each time he tried to move at his own pace, she lifted away. As much as Grimmjow needed more control, he desired the little friction more. The more he asked for, the less she gave.

Both took their turns pushing each other's limits until they were just a tangle of frustrated limbs; neither wanted to compromise.

They ended up back on the floor, Grimmjow leaning against the edge of the bed while Orihime moved above him. His head rested on the bedspread, giving the girl easy access to tease the skin of his throat. When her hips lifted away, his own reflexively thrust up to meet hers, but instead of distancing herself more, Orihime met him mid-thrust.

Grimmjow immediately raised his head, pleasured eyes wide. Frustrated bodies now met at an unspoken understanding and each moved with equal intention. Their movements moulded together until neither knew where they ended and the other started; synchronised motions accelerated equally until Inoue moved backwards, pulling Grimmjow above her.

He moved faster, still allowing Orihime to cling to his body and writhe beneath him. Grimmjow followed the instructions her heels gave him while the girl complied with his hands' requests. Her breathing became jagged as his groans became erratic; both knew that their previous frustration was going to pay off.

One final thrust while her hands gripped his neck tighter than before, and all need was alleviated, the desire relieved. Grimmjow's growl met Orihime's cry and then their breaths matched gasp for gasp.

"Can we get back on the bed? My butt's gone to sleep." Orihime muttered in his ear several minutes later. He scoffed but nonetheless picked her up and dropped her on the bed. "Hey!" The sulking girl didn't let go of the amused Hollow and Grimmjow soon found himself pulled down next to her. His tired scowl met her scolding glare. "Play nice, now."

Ulquiorra approached the extremely irritated Espada warily having just witnessed his violent outburst. Every being in Las Noches knew not to annoy an underslept Starrk but maybe that just applied to those with moderate intelligence.

Without disturbing the First Arrancar, Ulquiorra stood by the Hollow that was seeking rest on a hallway floor.

"Ulquiorra," Starrk began. The Fourth was surprised that his superior was still awake. "Why the hell is Grimmjow annoying the rest of us now? Has he left you alone?"

"Not at all; it seems to me that he's practically asking everyone for a fight now." Ulquiorra replied.

"Che, that healing thing that girl does must feel real good then." Starrk commented darkly before drifting off.


	10. Can A Leopard Change Its Spots? Part B

Title: Can a Leopard Change its Spots? [Part B]

Summary: Grimmjow's won the bet but has Orihime really lost hers? Ooooh, Hime's a bit OOC (actually most of them are) but writing her like this was SO fun!

Word Count: 3461.

Warnings: Just Lingo. Sorry :P

Genre: Romance, Angst

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.

Silver eyes blinked awake as Orihime's trustworthy body clock told her that morning had arrived. She rolled onto her back, grumbled, and sat up. Blinking and stretching, Orihime slowly remembered the events that had taken place last night and immediately looked to her side, expecting to find a sleeping Grimmjow beside her.

He wasn't there, Orihime had woken up alone. She sighed, concluding that an Espada's time wasn't always his own and that he had probably just needed to be somewhere. Still disappointed, Orihime rose and approached her shower room to freshen up.

When Orihime returned from her shower, dressed for the day, she was surprised to see Ulquiorra standing beside her table and chair, her breakfast laid out for her. As confusion washed over Orihime, she missed the calculating look in Ulquiorra's eyes, which was followed by an expression of realisation.

-o-o-o-

If Nnoitra's reaction was anything to go by, Grimmjow knew that Ulquiorra's would be a picture. He'd merely joined Nnoitra in the hallway as they headed to the meeting hall, and without Grimmjow saying anything, Nnoitra knew. Of course, Grimmjow didn't boast. Grimmjow gloated, immensely.

He was looking forward to entering the meeting and Ulquiorra knowing immediately but when Grimmjow and Nnoitra reached the hall, he noticed Ulquiorra's empty seat.

Slightly dejected, but still cocky, Grimmjow sat, linked his hands and raised them behind his head. His stance did not go unnoticed by the other Espadas, all of whom were present, and when Ulquiorra finally approached his seat, the girl close behind him, they all understood the unspoken conversation between Ulquiorra's furrowed eyebrows and Grimmjow's smirk and wink.

Oblivious to their interaction and fact that every Espada's eyes were now on her, Orihime sat as normal next to Ulquiorra just as Aizen entered. Grimmjow didn't notice her constant hopeful looks and kept his gloating stare on Ulquiorra, whose blood was currently boiling.

-o-o-o-

Orihime didn't really understand the situation but eventually assumed that Grimmjow probably didn't want to make a scene about things and that chances were, Aizen wouldn't exactly be ecstatic about what happened.

After the day's announcements, Orihime stood carefully before heading towards the door after Harribel, not waiting for either Grimmjow or Ulquiorra. Instead she only heard their aggravated conversation, if one could call it that.

"Go ahead then, I guess you can say it," Ulquiorra drawled, his tone dripping with defeat.

"Say what, Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow taunted, faking innocence. Orihime frowned in confusion and her steps slowed subconsciously.

"That you won the bet, you can voice your claim," Ulquiorra muttered impatiently.

"My claim, eh?" Grimmjow paused, knowing Nnoitra and Szayel were both listening, "Ah yes. Now, I've fucked every girl in Las Noches." The Sixth Espada sauntered out of the hall, completely missing the human girl he passed in the hallway.

Orihime couldn't move. Her wide grey eyes watered and her parted lips dried. _A bet?_ The words repeated over and over again in her head but she couldn't bring herself to even think what Grimmjow had 'claimed'. She could feel the eyes of the other three baring into her back, waiting for her to react, waiting for her to crumble.

As the tears fell violently down her cheeks, Orihime made no movement or sound. She simply walked forwards briskly, trying to keep her emotions hidden from Espadas Four, Five and Eight. She wasn't paying much attention to her progress but her movements slowed dramatically as she neared her door. Orihime tugged the door open and dragged her body into the room.

As soon as she was safe behind her closed entrance, Orihime fell back against it, plummeting to the floor. Hidden from the haunting eyes of _everyone_ in such a wretched place, Orihime no longer held her angry tears back. _How could he? He, he, he broke down all my barriers; he acted so, so, so ... I thought I loved him!_

"You bastard," Orihime whispered to the darkness, the first time she had ever cursed. "You lying, using, bastard." The broken feeling subsided as anger set in; no, something stronger than anger. Orihime coughed bitterly as she remembered Ulquiorra's words of warning, '_You'll find that he is the most obnoxious here._'

She had never felt the need to curse someone's existence; she had never even thought a profanity. Her friends' opponents had of course bothered her, but _this_ Hollow had gone out of his way to get under her skin. She hated him, but she also hated her weak heart for letting him destroy it so.

Orihime's opinion of someone had never been as low as it was of Grimmjow, her mind continuously flashing images of the Hollow acting so ... so human. She remembered the times that Tatsuki had complained about the likes of some boys, the way they'd try to take advantage of girls, and now Orihime felt more taken and used that she had thought possible.

Tatsuki's angry voice in mind, Orihime's fury doubled. Nearly deciding to storm out in search for the Espada, Orihime stopped dead in her tracks in fear. Not of what he could do to her – he had already done his worst – but of losing face. Her rage would have little effect on Grimmjow, if anything it would just make Grimmjow gloat more. No, she couldn't lose face. Her heart would no longer be weak; Orihime would no longer be weak.

-o-o-o-

Ulquiorra braced himself as he reached the girl's chamber; he wasn't looking forward to this. He assumed the girl would be in a bit of a state, and if he had to drag her out of bed to today's meeting, Grimmjow's feat would only increase. He didn't need the fact that he'd lost the bet rubbed in by humiliating the girl. Inhaling deeply, Ulquiorra forced the door open expecting the worst.

He expected dark rings around bloodshot eyes, a pale complexion, or matted hair at least. The Fourth Espada was surprised to find Orihime confidently walking out of her bathroom, already wearing her uniform without tugging awkwardly on the hemlines. Her sharp footsteps and exaggerated swing in her hips were not the most disturbing aspects of her character; no, Ulquiorra was astonished, if not a little anxious, by the transformation of the girl's eyes.

Orihime's normally sparkling silver eyes, typically overflowing with feeling – whether it be sorrow or joy – were alarmingly cold, void of all emotion; grey orbs of stone.

Orihime ate her breakfast quickly in silence, and proceeded to exit her chambers, heading for the meeting hall, already knowing Ulquiorra would lead her there. The Arrancar caught up with the woman, relieved she wasn't going to make a show – or at least not the one he was expecting – and fell into step beside the human whose spiritual energy felt denser than ever before.

-o-o-o-

Orihime was screaming in her head, her instincts telling her to run back to the safety and comfort of her bed, but her resolve would not break; she was determined. She didn't want to cause a scene or create a fuss, but neither did she want to shrink into the shadows and attempt to hide. Orihime bravely entered the meeting hall, stoic mask in place and took her seat, her unyielding stare gliding over the occasional face.

The one set of eyes she downright refused to acknowledge were the most shocked of all. Without looking into his familiar azure eyes, Orihime could feel the disbelief in his glare. _How dare he look that way, who the hell does he think he is to be so jolted_? Orihime's fear melted away as her anger spiked, very nearly turning to yell at the offender and demand what surprised him so.

Noticing Ulquiorra eye her wearily due to her crackling aura as her wrath charged her unstable spiritual pressure, Orihime immediately calmed herself, hoping none of the others had noticed. She sat down gracefully, not making eye contact with anyone but without staring into space.

Aizen's notices were few today, instructions were brief. Orihime did not pay much attention to his words but her heart skipped a beat as she heard Aizen's final statement.

"And finally, our intelligence tells us that the Gotei 13 has gathered its forces to Soul Society in order to reinforce its defences." Aizen paused to steal a glance at Orihime. "This implies that Karakura town is defenceless, as our intelligence also informed us that Captain Yamamoto has ordered the Substitute Soul Reaper and his allies back as well, declaring our dear Inoue a traitor."

Orihime felt all eyes upon her, anticipating the waterworks or at least an attempt to appear unfazed. The sound of the china tea cup shattering within her nimble fingers startled Orihime as well as some of the Espada, but the furious glare obstructed by her auburn fringe took the Hollows more.

Aizen dismissed the Espada and the girl whose reaction didn't disappoint him or surprise him in the least, and left them to their own devices.

Enraged at the Soul Society's accusation, Orihime stormed through the hallways, unknowingly followed. When Nnoitra caught up with her, Orihime snapped around glaring at the one who dared disrupt her mental screaming.

"What the hell do you want?" Orihime demanded, not bothered by his lanky form towering over her own.

"Nothin' much, pet," Nnoitra drawled mockingly. "Just, if I'd known that screwin' ya over good 'n' proper would'a got this kinda reaction outta ya, I'd a' fucked ya weeks ago."

"Is that so?" Orihime asked, granite stare bearing into his eye. Orihime blinked slowly before raising her hand in front of his chest. Anger flooded her mind and when she whispered her command, Nnoitra's strong body was forced down the hallway he'd just come through, his existence having been rejected from its original position.

Orihime was taken aback by her action and the power she felt behind it, but she couldn't bring herself to regret what she did. For the first time, Orihime attacked, and her burning spirit felt good.

By the time Nnoitra lifted his head and figured out what had happened, Orihime had already left the hallway, and he couldn't even hear her sharp footfalls.

-o-o-o-

Word quickly spread and, although they joked about it to Nnoitra's annoyance, the Espadas knew that his power had not weakened, but Inoue's had grown exponentially.

Inoue's cell had never been locked, the prisoner merely remained inside, fearful of the world beyond; now, however, she was just as likely to be around the next corner as any other inhabitant of Las Noches. The girl was also just as unnerving as any many of the Espadas now.

If Grimmjow was attracted to the vulnerable damsel in distress to begin with, seeing this _Goddess _drive fear into ranks below and above him made his head spin. Too bad none of her new found passion was directed at him; the woman never gifted the Sexta Espada with her steely gaze.

Although Aizen had not specifically planned Inoue's sudden increase in power, he was certainly pleased with it, especially seeing her have a little spot of distaste specifically reserved for the Soul Society. He had of course detected the amount of potential force within her apparently weak form, a phenomenon that her Shun Shun Rika barely hinted at.

-o-o-o-

Despite the obvious lack of need for a caretaker, Ulquiorra was still directed to see to Orihime. His task was immediately more tedious than before: her unknown whereabouts for starters. Finding her was never difficult: her reiatsu a beacon to her location, but it was tiresome nonetheless.

One evening, Orihime could be found lounging in the recreational room, currently ploughing her way through Las Noches' surprisingly extensive library. Ulquiorra strode in and placed himself in front of the sitting human, and waited patiently for her to look up.

"Ulquiorra-Sama," Orihime greeted the Espada flatly, without raising her vision from the page.

In the background, Starrk's steady snoring informed Ulquiorra that only the dormant Primera was present. The Cuatra lowered Inoue's book, demanding her attention, while his stoic emerald stare claimed authority.

"However much your strength has changed, do not forget your place, Inoue." The Fourth stated coldly.

"And what exactly is my place, Ulquiorra?" He thought he had misheard when her voice lacked the challenge the statement required. Was she genuinely curious?

"Your place is to accept my authority, and all of the Espadas', over yourself; not just Aizen-Sama's and the commanders' influences." Ulquiorra declared impassively.

"Is that so?" Orihime asked slowly, now standing. Her stone expressionless stare equalled his jade study momentarily before Inoue stepped to his side and made to exit the room. Her progress was halted by his abrupt grip around her throat, temporarily freezing her, as he suddenly stood before her.

"You will learn your place, girl." The Arrancar ordered. He watched as her glowering eyes trained on his extended arm and he barely detected her uttered command. Beneath his cold hand, he felt the human's skin begin to burn against his flesh. Even his uncuttable exterior could not withstand the girl's flare and eventually, Ulquiorra was forced to tear his hand away from her throat.

Now he understood; her body had an ability to reject what she did not want, by any means necessary. The actions did not require extensive physical strength, more that this particular defence could detect the exact vulnerability, a weakness easily exploited.

Naturally, her offence against Nnoitra had required more force, but her anger clearly ruled her strength; here she was evidently not particularly angry, that which Ulquiorra was thankful for.

The Espada was unsure as to what Inoue actually wanted, but he suspected her goal was not to take on the fortress. He doubted her power was any form of threat to his master; perhaps she merely demanded the respect she now deserved. In that case, Ulquiorra would grant it.

-o-o-o-

Orihime had anticipated Nnoitra to avoid her, but instead the Cinco's interest in her grew.

"I don' like it," his brief response was the only reply to her interrogation.

"What?" Orihime asked with arched brows.

"Ya nothin', but ya stronga th'n me; it ain't gonna last, Princess." Orihime did not reply to his warning. Although without intention, she stepped forward, causing the Espada to retreat slightly, wary of her mood swings.

"Don't worry, Nnoitra. Not unless you anger me again." Orihime cautioned before continuing along the passageway. Behind her, the Fifth Espada was deciding that, no, he would not anger her.

Orihime journeyed a now familiar path in return to her room. Her brisk footfalls never faltered along the way and she slid the door ajar with ease. The red-head sat at her dresser and stared back at her reflection casted in the mirror.

Grey eyes blurred silver as her stoic mask fell. Saddened orbs glimmered as they did every night; the girl silently weeping on the stool. She had assumed that her heart had yearned for their acknowledgement, to be deemed worthy of respect, to not be weak; why did this gaping hole remain in her chest?

-o-o-o-

Usually, when an objective is met, the desire for it dissipates shortly after. Thus, when Grimmjow had fucked the auburn-haired beauty, he had expected his mild fixation with her to dispel as such. Perhaps it was her recent discovery of very appealing strength, or possibly the fact that her evident hatred for him meant she was totally out of his reach; either way, the cerulean-eyed Arrancar had an insatiable thirst for the woman.

Grimmjow was well aware that even several of those ranked above him now gave her due respect, but she didn't demand that of him. He was fuckin' fed up with her now, her and her damned ignorance of him!

For once, the girl was where she should be, in her fuckin' room. He knew most of the Arrancar knocked before entering the dorm now, but he'd be damned if he did too. Instead, Grimmjow kicked the door open, revealing a suddenly recomposed Orihime, oblivious to her previously distressed state.

His reiatsu had given her a fair warning of his approach and she had quickly wiped away the evidence of her grief and donned her hard stare.

"What do you want?" Her demand didn't surprise him in the least.

"Ya think ya can just saunter aroun' here like ya own the fuckin' place?" His accusation brought forth no visible response. "Maybe someone should remind ya, girl, that yer a prisoner here." He wanted to provoke her, have her look at him with _something_ other than indifference.

"Do you intend to do so?" She simply asked.

Normally, when water hits a rock, eventually the water will erode away the stone, but when faced with her impenetrable granite stare, Grimmjow's azure eyes understood why this woman demanded and received respect: although she may not necessarily _want_ to, Orihime was more than capable from crushing every ounce of his power without so much as blinking.

"No," Grimmjow finally replied.

"Then leave." However, Inoue could not deter his rebellious streak. Snarling, the Sexta advanced, his animalistic side causing his spiritual pressure to spike around him. Treading on thin ice without concern, Grimmjow pulled the girl to her feet, crashing his lips forcefully to hers in a dominating kiss. But all too soon, he felt the girl's reiatsu pull him back.

"Do not be so foolish to believe you are that significant, Grimmjow." Orihime said flatly.

Ulquiorra's condescending insults he could handle, and he was similarly unaffected by Aizen's patronizing abuse. But this one girl's offence took Grimmjow aback; only weeks ago did _he _have this much influence on _her_.

Orihime watched as he stormed from her room, failing to hide the confusion on his handsome features. She would not let herself be used again, her heart was padlocked behind iron and she'd be a fool to lower its defences.

-o-o-o-

She was right, and the shitty thing about it was there was fuck all he could do about it! Although he had obtained recognised power among the Arrancar, the lot of them had always been small-fry in comparison to Aizen's awesome power; and now her God-like will overpowered most of them as well.

No matter how he tried to resist bending to the Ex-Shinigami's rule, he didn't have the strength to defy him. But he had the intention; hell, now he had more reason than before.

-o-o-o-

Running around with a sign post declaring that she still cared for the Sexta Espada probably would have informed less people of that fact than her hasty advance to his room had. The entire palace had felt the brief clash of spiritual energy and Orihime immediately lost her concern to keep up appearances.

Her heart could have been filled to the brim with hate, she could have hated so much she wished the world to come crashing down upon everyone, but not him. Orihime may hate him for what he did, but her badly placed love could not be discouraged.

Inoue entered his quarters without a thought to knock, before looking at the bloody mess lying on the bed. Aizen obviously found the Sexta's mood swings entertaining – not in the least bit threatening – if allowing him to live was any indication.

"Well that was stupid," She muttered from the entrance.

"Sod off," his anger could not disguise the agony that ripped through him with just two words.

He didn't meet her pitying gaze when she approached him anyway - _knew she would_ - but didn't repeat his comment. She healed him quickly, her speed surprising him, and he braced himself for the onslaught of insults sure to come.

"Thanks, now fuck off," He didn't want to hear it, not from her.

Instead of an endless stream of offence, Orihime's cold eyes crumbled before she turned away, her tough act falling around her uncontrollably.

_Shit._

He hauled himself off the bed and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her without a second's thought. "I'm sorry." He muttered as he lent his head to her neck.

Orihime, feeling the hiccups approaching, smiled for the first time in weeks, knowing he could feel the change in her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but the first hiccup interrupted her, making him laugh.

Trying again, but this time his fingers gently held her mouth closed. Grimmjow accepted her strength, admired it, but he also knew that the same girl – the same girl he destroyed – was locked in there somewhere, needing his comfort; he wouldn't stop till he found her. That didn't need words.

-o-o-o-

**A/N: Right now I don't think I can write anything that isn't even just a little bit WAFF. Not sure how this one and its other half will be received but I liked the idea. Feedback please?**


	11. When the Cat's Away, the Mice Will Play

Title: When the Cat's Away, the Mice Will Play.

Summary: Orihime's left to her own devices. Drabble time.

Word Count: 1515

Warnings: Smexy time :) and we know Grimmjow has a foul mouth so obviously, he has a foul mind. Well you could try giving the guy an upper-class and polite conscience but no one wants that.

Genre: Romance / Humour

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.

\ / \ / Orihime \ / \ /

He'd left in a pretty bad temper last time he was here. Well, angrier than usual. We hadn't even really started anything either, or nothing he'd call 'fun'. Sure, his tongue had been everywhere but when he pulled my head away from his lap, instead of sticking his tongue down my throat and moving things forward, he left.

My only consolation was that he was just as frustrated as I was.

That night was the first night I'd touched _myself _in a while. The first of many nights it seemed. Eight nights later, he still hadn't come back to finish what he'd started so each night my hands became his. I was just glad that all he'd got was self-service too.

Ha! When he came back after the first time, he told me none of the other girls were as good. Pft, later that day I heard some of the female Arrancars saying that after he'd been with me, a weak human, they weren't interested.

Maybe he thought going a week without the 'pathetic girl' would clean his slate. Perhaps that was all those sluts wanted. Doubtful; when I saw him around the fortress, he was just as cranky as last time. He was definitely frustrated.

So what the hell was he waiting for?

Maybe I should have asked Ulquiorra or one of the others to help me out, that'd probably have gotten his attention. But then again, I don't think he'd have become jealous; he didn't care enough. And besides, every time I thought about requesting assistance with my desire, the need just bubbled away in disgust.

I slumped backwards onto the luxurious bed I'm gifted with, sinking into the silk sheets. Sighing agitatedly, I lazily pulled the white uniform away from my skin, not bothering to don my nightdress; I'd only drag it to one side. I crawled beneath the sheets, appreciating the delicate feel against my skin, skin that was slowly but surely heating up again. The fabric began to irritate my flushed skin; before long it remained crumpled around the foot of the bed, discarded as useless.

My mind wouldn't behave and before long I was thinking of teal hair, azure eyes, the jawbone fragment of a mask, large and talented hands, broad shoulders, toned arms, a muscular chest, firm abdomen, the gap through his torso, the trail of faint blue hairs leading down, his –

Bad brain! Bad brain! None of that was helping!

"Grimmjow, where on earth are you?" I wished he could hear my whisper to the night.

I ran my left hand over my forehead, before I felt my throbbing temples. Taking a deep breath, I dragged my hand over my neck, there my slightly slower pulse showing I'd relaxed a little. My hand crept further down, brushing past my left breast before circling over my right.

I closed my eyes and fantasies became reality for me.

He cupped the pliant mound gently, as if testing the weight, and then he rubbed a calloused thumb across the centre, approaching my sensitive peak slowly. He took his time, the digit circling before caressing the tip softly. I felt a finger meet his thumb and he tweaked my nipple in between the appendages.

"Grimmjow," I moaned when I felt him pinch me.

His other hand gradually moved up my stomach and treated my previously neglected breast to the same attentions. Simultaneously tweaking my nipples, Grimmjow elicited throatier moans from my pleasured body; I wished he'd kiss me.

One hand snuck away from my cleavage, fluttering over my stomach and skirting around my waist. He stroked down my outer thigh before ascending along my inner thigh; his fingertips eased my legs willingly apart. I felt him caress my most intimate area slowly, his digits touching the knot of nerves then descending to enter my core.

First one, then two and finally three fingers played my body perfectly, filling me before withdrawing. Occasionally the palm of his hand rubbed against my pleasure point, resulting in a crescendo of my moans.

I bit my lip as I felt his speed increase, his fingertips touching spots only he knew, curling ever so deep. He pinched my nipple harsher than before, or maybe he bit it; my head was approaching nirvana, I didn't care.

My body quivered beneath his ministrations, evidence to my impending release; but he suddenly denied me my pleasure. His hand teased my thighs while my frustrated breathing slowed slightly, his fingers barely brushing over my breast.

He caught me off guard; two long fingers plunged into my heat, thrusting hard and fast. My breaths and moans escalated, echoing around the room, only separated by my pleas for more and gasps of his name.

My core clenched around his hand, desperate to hold him there and the knot of pleasure tightened in the pit of my stomach; the pressure increased and increased until the intensity threw me off the edge. The blindingly explosive waves of bliss consumed me as the heart-stopping orgasm washed through every nerve of my being.

His hand lingered between my legs while my lungs fought for oxygen, my chest rising and falling beneath his hand at a decreasing rate. I bet he felt the vibrations through my skin as I hummed contentedly.

\ / \ / Grimmjow \ / \ /

Apparently, Aizen didn't like any of us touching his precious pet. But instead of just telling us straight, he felt he had to keep us busy twenty-four fucking seven. Well, I s'pose if he'd just told us, I wouldn't have listened anyway, and I was the only one it applied to ... well, I'd better be the only bloody one.

The few hours of freedom Aizen cared to give me of course mirrored Aizen's schedule for Orihime's mental breakdown. If he didn't order Ulquiorra to her cell to bully the girl, the prisoner was summoned straight to Aizen.

What a fucker.

The first night I could handle, I was tired anyway. The second, I was bordering on frustrated. But on the third, if steam wasn't coming out my ears, then I'd be surprised. You'd figure that to any guy in my position, the nearby Cirucci would have been a pleasant option.

She thought so too.

Don't get me wrong, she'd been a good lay, but the 'I'm so bangable' act lost the appeal after a few times. But even so, purple haired slut versus the hand should have been a simple question. Wrong!

I wasn't at all interested. She could go fuck herself. And I told her so. But I didn't add the afterthought that I would be too. Of course, she didn't take rejection well but a pesky little Privaron Espada couldn't really do me a lot of harm.

The worst she could do was gossip. Oh no, what a pity, a FEW Arrancar bitches now think that after screwing Orihime, they think they're too good. Not sure if my sarcastic glare got through to them. Pretty sure the cero did and now Sun-sun's missing a good chunk of arm. Ironic that they now have to go ask the girl they deemed 'pathetic' for help; serves 'em fucking right.

But either way, not having those whores sniffing around was refreshing. Confused the hell outta them that I wasn't bothered; to be honest, I was pretty confused too. But what can I say? Orihime's got something they haven't. Don't ask what it is – although they do, constantly – but it's something that none of them can compare to.

But after a week or so without my toy, frustrated wasn't a strong enough word. Of course, Aizen acted oblivious and kept me constantly occupied.

Having finished 'educating' one of the Adjuchas armies in the Menos Forest, I returned to Las Noches for yet another meaningless task from the Almighty Lord. When he told me that was it for the day I wondered if someone had put something in his tea: the girl wasn't with him and Ulquiorra wasn't with her. Aizen knew this but ... oh well, I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I probably surprised a few Arrancars as I flash-stepped to Orihime's quarters but I stood motionless when I realised what I was hearing from her room. I knew those sounds well but I didn't want to hear them when I wasn't causing them!

Hell, whatever fucker was in there with her was going to be missing some limbs soon!

It was when I was evaluating the other's spiritual pressure that I realised there wasn't one. Evidently the girl was just as frustrated as I was; damn, never thought listening to a girl touch herself would turn me on so much. I really couldn't help myself: I just stood outside her room, listening as she made the most arousing noises, gasping _my_ name; I just stood there, picturing what she was doing.

If she'd gone on much longer, I'd have ended up _appreciating_ the audio right there in the corridor, but Orihime came – loudly – before that happened. Knowing she'd be fairly out-of-it by now, I eased her door open, curious to see if she wanted the real thing now.

\ / \ / Author \ / \ /

**You could say this was almost a 'double-drabble'. The title for this was one of my favourites because there were so many possible ways I could have taken it. Hope you enjoyed! ;)**


	12. Curiosity Killed the Cat

**A/N: Sorry guys, but this will be the last chapter of this collection. It's been really fun searching for cat proverbs and sayings and even more fun thinking of all the crazy things I could and have made them do! I'm sure there are way more out there with even funnier possibilities, but I'll let someone else discover them and create a beautiful love story or a hilarious crack fic out of them. I'm sure you're all sick of my heart warming speech now, so without further ado, I give you my last Feline Antic.**

Title: Curiosity Killed the Cat, but Satisfaction Brought it Back.

Summary: After one last attempt to free them all, Orihime's just lucky that she still has him.

Word Count: 2954

Warnings: Grimmjow's charming vocabulary and they really can't control themselves. :P

Genre: Romance / Angst

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.

Although not a day had passed in this godforsaken place that Orihime hadn't thought longingly of her hometown and friends, Orihime had found a part of heart that fit in perfectly in Hueco Mundo.

After spending a month with the Arrancar, Inoue began to understand the creatures; the truth of their existence. They were slaves, well kept and maybe oblivious to the fact, but slaves nonetheless. Every creature the Hougyoku had created was tied to the orb, and all the time it was in Aizen's powerful grasp, the Hollows were cursed to obey completely.

Of course, some complied wholeheartedly without complaints, or knew better than to question the Soul Reaper's incredible force. But others rebelled continuously, no matter how many times they were punished.

Orihime knew Ulquiorra held none of his apparent respect for the Shinigami; his loyalty was merely an act. But that didn't change the fact that the strings that controlled him tortured him without reprieve. She understood that Ulquiorra refused to voice his circumstance; his choice to remain indifferent had most likely kept him alive.

Grimmjow, on the other hand, was a loose cannon, a resistance waiting to happen constantly. Although his alliance with the Arrancar gave him more than enough opportunity to fight, the restrictions Aizen locked around him held the wild cat in a cage.

They were all searching for death, because they all craved the freedom that only death could bring now.

* * * *

The purple sphere rested innocently in her palm, who knew such minute orb could hold so much power? The Hougyoku was the reason for the Arrancars' servitude. Orihime found it strange that she could despise an object so much, how could you cause a rock pain?

You couldn't, nobody could. All Orihime could do was destroy it, squashing Aizen's plans but more importantly, freeing the beings she had begun to love.

Orihime brought the two fairies into existence in a daze, her emotions distracting her while Ayame and Shunou flew around peacefully. She wouldn't be able to stand it if any of her human friends got hurt; she would be equally devastated if the Shinigami she trusted and loved were harmed; Orihime also knew there were some Espada whose place in her heart had become so strong, she wouldn't be able to stand it if she lost them.

She cared for them, one more than the rest, of that she was sure. Definitely; her love for the sixth Espada could not be ignored, although he tried. She smiled, remembering how had reacted when he realised that she had grown so attached, angry at first for being so stupid but confused when he understood that he didn't mind.

The fluttery feeling in her stomach reminded her of her purpose. She surely didn't have long before Aizen returned; as long as she'd had time to erase the retched thing she didn't care if he caught her.

"Souten Kishun," Orihime began, trying to remain as quite as possible.

"When Gin informed me of your presence in here, I didn't believe him." Orihime jumped as she heard the calm voice of the ex Shinigami. She hadn't had enough time!

Aizen appeared at her side, lifting the orb from her hands while she could only blink in dismay, allowing the slow tears to stain her cheeks.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Inoue. I had expected better of you." He lifted her chin to meet his mocha eyes as they bored into her overflowing silvery depths. "Perhaps I need to reinforce my control over you, Orihime." Silver eyes flew wide, but nobody would hear her screams as he dragged her back to her cell.

* * * *

Fuck, where the hell was Ulquiorra? He could hear her cries and feel the fear and pain in her screams and reiatsu. He had to do something! But could he? He was no match for Aizen, but maybe if he gave Ulquiorra enough time, the fourth could get the girl away.

He couldn't feel the Cuatro's spiritual pressure anywhere, had he been sent on a mission? Probably, he never had any time to himself. Grimmjow, on the other hand, always seemed to have free time – maybe if he hadn't, he wouldn't have had a chance to get close the human; maybe he wouldn't lo-

One distinct cry of pain pulled him from his musings. The Espada no longer cared, he'd find a way to stop Aizen, or at least give Orihime enough time to heal whatever he'd done to her so far.

He didn't stop at the girl's door; it was in splinters before he could give it any thought.

The chocolate-haired man held the girl by her throat, ignoring the attempts her dainty hands made to free her neck. Although his right hand was currently idle, Grimmjow could see where it had been. The bruises that marred her face disguised her pale and blushing complexion and the outfit, which he openly admired time and time again, was stained red from countless abrasions he couldn't see.

Before the man could harm her further, Grimmjow adopted his indifferent persona and flash-stepped next to his commander. The Arrancar gripped the Shinigami's forearm firmly, restricting the man from raising it to the girl again.

"She can't take anymore, Aizen-sama," the name brought a bad taste to his mouth. "I gather we still need her alive, ne?"

Aizen eyed his soldier carefully, fully aware of his attachment to the life in his hand. He smiled before he released the girl, watching the flash behind the blue eyes as the Espada controlled the reflex to catch her.

Grimmjow knew what that smile meant: if he wasn't dead in a few seconds, he was going to wish he was. He dodged the Soul Reaper's blow to the chest but Aizen was too quick for Grimmjow to avoid the winding punch to his gut. He doubled over, and even when he could stand, the Shinigami's sudden wave of spiritual pressure kept him immobilised.

Aizen knew the Espada was right, he needed the girl's power, and he knew that Grimmjow's strength was a valuable asset to his force. That didn't change the fact he was annoyed beyond reason. If he couldn't control them separately, he'd have to find a way to use their relationship against them – shouldn't be too difficult.

* * * *

Orihime watched in stunned silence, too horrified to move from her spot on the floor. Her Shun Shun Rikka had acted out of their own accord to heal her more serious injuries, sustaining her life to watch as the man she'd tried to save took the beating for her mistake. She hoped he was unconscious by now, with any luck he was spared the pain.

"Aizen-sama, I'm sorry!" Orihime found her voice and tried the only thing she could think of. "I swear I won't try anything like that again! Please, stop."

Orihime remained bone stiff as the man approached her, not trusting the fake smile of kindness at all. He crouched to her height and placed his hand beneath her chin, holding her head securely.

"I will hold you to that, pet," Aizen said softly, "But feel free to do so, I'm sure you realise now that _you_ will get away with it. But rest assured, _someone_ will have to face the consequences." Aizen departed after that, briefly glancing at the bloody mess of the Arrancar, knowing that he'd be healed within seconds.

As soon as her door was shut, Orihime crawled to Grimmjow's side, healing him quicker than she'd ever restored anyone. When he could, the Espada stood and Orihime stood before him. He didn't need to tell her he wanted her to heal the rest of the damage she had sustained and Orihime did so quickly.

"You shouldn't have done that, Grimmjow," she said softly, slowly lifting her hand to his face.

He grabbed her wrist in its tracks, avoiding the unspoken apology in her eyes.

"What the fuck did you do, woman?" He demanded aggressively. Although Aizen hadn't said it, he knew if he stepped out of line now, _she_ would be on the receiving end of their leader's anger.

"I was going to erase the Hougyoku," Orihime admitted nervously, her head dropping to hide her shame.

Cerulean eyes widened at her revelation, what the hell was she thinking?

"Don't you even think about that, girl!" Grimmjow snarled, throwing Orihime's hand back to her side.

"Wha ... what's wrong Grimmjow? I thought it would free you all," Orihime asked, shocked at his reaction.

"Yeah, by killing us, idiot!" Grimmjow yelled. He knew it wasn't her fault – she didn't know – but if she'd just mentioned it to him or Ulquiorra, this wouldn't have happened. "If you erase it, then you erase everything it did."

Orihime brought her hands to her mouth, covering her dropped jaw. Tears fell silently down her cheeks again as she realised what she had been so close to doing.

"I'm so sorry," Orihime whispered, the fear in her voice reinforcing Grimmjow of all their fates.

"Forget it, girl. Forget any attempt against him, it's pointless," he was unable to meet her gaze as he admitted the truth they had all been running from. "Aizen is going to win, and all of those Shinigami are gonna die."

Orihime didn't pause to rethink her action, she just slapped him instantly. "Don't say that. They're strong, they'll defeat him."

Grimmjow's exasperated expression met her determined appearance. There she goes.

"Ichigo will win, I know he will." Orihime felt her voice soften, the beacon of light that thinking of her friends caused calming her. Of course, Grimmjow just figured it was her long-lasting affection for the Substitute Shinigami.

"Just shut the fuck up about the damned Soul Reaper!" He yelled suddenly. His jealousy only caused Orihime to retaliate.

"But he will win, he has to. When Kurosaki-kun has to do something, he does." She mumbled, reassuring herself more than anything. Grimmjow grabbed her shoulders, pulling her closer to him suddenly.

"I told ya I don't wanna hear it, girl!" He figured she still loved him, at least partially, and the envy that caused him to feel pissed him off no end.

"But I can't forget him! I can't forget any of the-" Orihime wailed defiantly, only to be cut off by his harsh kiss. The anger and passion filled any need for affection and Orihime immediately responded, the now obvious need in her own heart making itself known.

His probing tongue stroked the crease in her lips, asking for entrance only to force her mouth apart, deepening the kiss. She clung on to the back of his neck, and pushed her from against his body.

She suddenly realised just how scared she was: she could lose him at any second these days; she could lose any of them. As though it would keep him with her forever, she pulled him closer to her.

His hands had landed on her hips in the heat of the moment but now they wrapped around her back, pressing her flush against his chest. He knew they didn't have long – they never did – but he needed the reassurance. His hands lowered slowly to her rear before lifting her from the floor, and her legs wrapped around his hips instinctively.

He dragged his lips away from her addictive mouth, allowing her to breathe while tracing an invisible line from her mouth to her neck with his tongue. He grinned against her skin when he heard her moan, a moan that became a long hiss of pleasure when she felt him begin to suck gently on her throat.

Orihime pulled his head back into a kiss, and vaguely felt him move around the room. She remained clinging to his waist as he sat on her couch, straddling his lap in a familiar fashion. As with every encounter between them, their clothes didn't last long.

She tugged his jacket over his shoulders, revealing the strong arms that occupied themselves with pulling her coat from her skin, tracing the creamy expanse of her shoulders and neck above the white bodice.

Orihime carefully eased herself out of her skirt, completely comfortable only clad in her basque and white panties. Her eyes fluttered shut when she felt his hands stroke her sides over the material of the bustier, not bothering to remove the tricky garment, and resting over her underwear on her hips.

She used his shoulders for leverage to rock her hips against his sensuously, smiling as she kissed him while he groaned against her tongue. One hand crept beneath the white lace and teasingly stroked the skin from the top of her thigh to between her legs. His fingers found her sweet spot and with every tiny movement, he elicited beautifully erotic moans from her wet lips, groans that he reciprocated against her mouth.

Grimmjow smoothly rearranged their bodies so he rested between her legs as she laid length-way on the sofa, never ceasing his claim upon her mouth or his ministrations on her body.

He wanted to appreciate every inch of her ivory form, to touch and lick and suck at each sweet spot while she begged for more. But they didn't have the time; they never had the time. There was always a disturbance.

Orihime allowed him to slip the lacy knickers down her long legs while her needy hands clawed at the black obi that clung to his hips. The Espada buried his face in her hair when he felt the silky touch of her palm caressing his length, growling against the skin of her neck when her thumb rubbed over the tip.

Her hand didn't linger and continued to tug his hakamas down; she felt both his hands hold her hips before the Arrancar pushed into her ready and welcoming body. Both remained motionless for several breaths, appreciating the feeling of fullness or encompassing heat.

Grimmjow couldn't get enough of the slick warmth around him; he couldn't get enough of her. He withdrew gradually, revelling in the friction before pounding back into her core; the way her eyes shut tightly, the way she moaned in pleasure, the way she bit on her lip to contain her screams, they were all too much. He pulled her torso up, leaning her back against the armrest, and held her body tightly against his again, dominating her mouth passionately.

He could taste the blood on her lips where her teeth had broken the skin; he sucked the cut lavishly, enjoying the coppery flavour until the abrasion healed. Orihime's hands delved into his hair, pulling at the blue locks with every entry then relaxing her hands to just stroke his scalp when he pulled out.

He felt her begin to whimper against his tongue, clutching tightly to his chest, a telltale forecast of her impending release. Grimmjow released her mouth, allowing the universe to hear her delicious moans she was unable to restrain, and he kissed his way down her throat to lick the skin exposed to his tongue above the bodice.

Without unlacing the garment, Grimmjow pulled the top half down, revealing her perky pale breasts, the darkened peaks luring him to touch. The slightly salty taste to her heated skin mixed with her natural sweet honey flavour called him like no other aroma; he took his time licking a trail from her shoulder to a nipple, the dusky skin begging for attention. He captured the bud between his teeth, rolling the flesh with his tongue, while accenting the sensations with more forceful thrusts. The Espada's rough tongue caressed her skin repeatedly and Orihime's moans doubled when he raised a hand to please her other breast. His fingers pinched the dark peak while his teeth gently bit its twin; he smirked against her chest when he heard her cry his name in ecstasy.

The rapture in Orihime's voice caused his heated blood to pound even harder, and Grimmjow recognised the familiar feeling in his abdomen when her body wrapped tighter around his thrusting member.

How loud would she scream, knowing that little volume was blocked by the thin walls? Would she allow herself to moan his name loud enough for the entire fortress to hear? He wanted to find out.

Grimmjow tilted Orihime's hips upwards slightly, changing the angle by a mere margin but the increase in her pleasured moans was phenomenal. He pound into her body, but when the her climatic convulsions around his body caused him to lose rhythm, he let her orgasm-ridden form tighten around his length enough to bring him to ecstasy too, groaning his release against her neck.

He didn't often stay with her during the night, but he didn't move from her side that time. He pulled the blankets from beneath the couch and wrapped themselves together, both facing away from the back of the sofa while he held her back close to his chest.

Orihime knew he'd fallen asleep when his hand remained still on her stomach after gently stroking her waist absentmindedly.

Perhaps their fight was pointless; maybe they really didn't have that long left. The possibilities of their fate overwhelmed Orihime but she knew she could spend the rest of her lift worrying about what would happen next, but missing every second as it passed straight by her.

So Orihime rolled onto her other side and nuzzled into the Arrancar's chest, hoping beyond imagination they'd all be free one day, that she would be able to share their freedom, but also incredibly thankful for the milliseconds that passed as she stared at Grimmjow's dormant expression, free from it all until he awoke.

* * * *

**A/N: Thanks for staying with me all this way and thank you so much for the wonderful reviews. Special thanks to:**

**Ellie0223; Katrina Tora; Jaque-Weasley; Midnight Blue08; Yongo; AmIOtaku; Volker's Storyteller and Nox Lacuna. **

**You guys have continued to show your love and support and, well without it, this crap may not have been bothered to get written in the end. You all rock! I send you all virtual profiteroles (but I'm sure you'd rather I sent you the recipe and ingredients so Grimmjow will go and investigate while you cook 'em) and many a hug!!!**

**You should all look out for the next Grimm/Hime stories I'm going to post. I said I've got a jotter full of notes, and I meant it! **

**Loves to all!!!!!!! **

**Xxxxx**


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